


February Ficlet Challenge

by Spootilious



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Arachnophobia, Ballet AU, February Ficlet Challenge, Intrulogical, Logince - Freeform, Lomus - Freeform, M/M, Middle Ages, Multi, Other, Prinxiety - Freeform, Spiders, Wizard AU, analogical - Freeform, demus - Freeform, dukeceit, logicality - Freeform, receit, remile - Freeform, toyality, trashnoodle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:41:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 29
Words: 47,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22585783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spootilious/pseuds/Spootilious
Summary: Twenty-nine Sanders Sides ficlets based on Hiddendreamer67's prompt list on Tumblr: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Deceit Sanders & Sleep | Remy Sanders, Deceit Sanders/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani & Sleep | Remy Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani/Sleep | Remy Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders/Deceit Sanders
Comments: 46
Kudos: 46





	1. Arachne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For February Prompts on Tumblr: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original Post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190599830762/february-prompts-21
> 
> Prompt 1: Ideal/Ignore
> 
> Pairing: Prinxiety

“Virgil! Stop ignoring me!” Roman demanded, pounding on his door once more. “I know you can hear me!” he yelled over the booming music.

It had been two days since the dark and stormy man had spoken so much as a word to the princely individual. Honestly, the whole thing was a bit childing. None of it was Roman’s fault really. He just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“If you don’t answer this door right now, I’m going to…. To…” Roman paused to try and come up with something truly horrifying, “add bleach to all of your hair products!” he warned.

The door was pulled open immediately, revealing the purple clad man, glaring under his hood at his other half. Virgil was obviously in no mood for Roman’s antics and for a moment the dramatic man seemed to lose his voice.

“Talk fast.” he ordered flatly.

“Is the hostility really called for, Stormcloud?” Roman asked softly, causing Virgil to scoff and attempt to slam the door in his face. Luckily, Roman’s athletic build leant him a bit of an advantage as he caught the edge of the polished wood keeping it from closing.

“You almost killed her!” Virgil snapped, his fury doubling with this intrusion.

“It was an accident.” Roman pleaded.

“The Hell it was! You were caught with the poison still in you hand!” Virgil accused.

“Virg… Listen… My burning abyss… The ashes of my heart-“

“Don’t try and sweet talk me! You murderer!” the dark man interrupted.

“Now that’s not fair! Octavia is fine.” Roman pointed out.

“Yeah, no thanks to you!”

“Virgil, I told you I was helping Pat in the garden the pesticide wasn’t for her!” he pleaded for what felt like the millionth time. Virgil stared him down for a long moment before he disappeared behind the door briefly.

“Yeah… well…” he mumbled, reappearing with the tarantula in question and presenting her to the other man. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

Roman reared in a mix of fear and disgust. He loved Virgil dearly, but spiders were just… they were just so… She seemed to extend a large hairy leg towards him making him shudder and pull back.

His gaze lifted to his lover’s then back at the revolting creature. It was obvious that he wanted to whine; to call the whole situation preposterous. Still, it had been two days since the smaller man had even acknowledged Roman’s existence, if he messed this up now, he wasn’t sure he’d survive the icy temperatures Virgil would no doubt send his way.

He ran his suddenly sweaty palms down the side of his pants and glanced once more into his lover’s eyes. If this was to be the end of him then at least he would die with honor in the name of love. He swallowed down the urge to vomit and reached out for the vile thing slowly, hands shaking.

Virgil watched him, brow arched with curiosity. He knew how much Roman hated spiders. Would he really be willing to hold Octavia just for the chance to mend things with him? Did Roman really care that much?

Roman gave a small jerk of fear as he drew closer to the arachnid as it seemed to twitch, somehow managing to keep from squealing. Slowly he paused, close enough for the beast to be urged into his palms.

“My d-dear Oc… Octavia.” he stuttered a bit breathlessly as she inched towards him and he closed his eyes, willing his body to remain still. “I apologize profusely for any misunderstand or harm that I have caused to….” he paused, shivering slightly as one of her legs brushed him. “to be-befall you. I am at your mercy.” he finished, bowing his head, trying to hide the way his lips were quivering in fear.

Virgil watched, heart warming at the man’s attempt to sooth his ruffled feather. Still, he couldn’t allow this opportunity to be wasted. He pulled Octavia closer to himself before quickly darting out to give a small sharp pinch against Roman’s wrist.

The overly dramatic man let out a loud high pitch screech of fear, that could no doubt be misinterpreted as a young child’s and pulled back. He clung to his injury as he seemed to prance about where he stood, knees brought up high and stomping down as he attempted to work though his wave of panic.

Virgil’s laughs echoed down the hall as he practically doubled over with amusement, the spider still clutched against him protectively.

“You really think I’d let you hold Octavia?” He laughed, leaning against the door frame. “She’s trained to smell fear, Ro… She’d eat you alive!”

“That’s not funny!” The prima donna whined as he finally gathered himself enough to shoot a dirty look Virgil’s way.

“We disagree.” Virgil chucked before shoving his door open wide and turning back into his room. “Come on, Arachne. It’s movie night and its my turn to pick.” he reminded as he gently placed his pet back into her habitat.

Roman stepped inside, relieved that the man had obviously forgiven him but not amused in the least…

La Fin

NOTE: Archne is the Greek/Roman god of spiders.


	2. I Hear You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February Prompts are here!
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190617609902/february-prompts-22
> 
> Today's prompt: Deaf/Dare
> 
> Ship: Logicality

Logan’s gaze shifted over the words on the page before him slowly. He had read the same paragraph at least half a dozen times and yet it still didn’t sink in. He gave a heavy sigh, rubbing his temple as it continued to throb unpleasantly, before closing the book and setting it aside. He simply hadn’t been able to enjoy reading as much as he had before the accident.

His gaze caught on the tiny hand that set a small mug of tea onto the coffee table in front of him before it rose to meet Patton’s gaze. The smaller man offered a gentle smile and spoke to him. The eerie silence was something Logan had grown accustomed to over the last six months; but he still struggled to read lips.

“I apologize Patton… I… didn’t catch that.” He replied, his words sounding almost as if he had cotton in his cheeks. It was so strange not being able to hear your own voice. The pain in his temple increased as he tried not to flinch, tugging on his ear in response.

“Oh.” The smaller man chuckled. Oh, what Logan wouldn’t give to hear that laugh again. He had always loved the sound of Patton’s laughter. It was high pitched and so pure… Like church bells in spring.

He watched as Patton’s hands moved slowly, deliberately. The smaller man had worked very hard to learn sign language for Logan. He had been so distraught when they discovered Logan had become deaf during his car accident and was determined to make every accommodation possible.

‘Cookies… Me… Bake… Future/will… you want?’ he signed a bit clumsily asking Logan if he would like Patton to bake them some treats.

“Ah.” Logan replied, beginning to sign in return. He continued to speak, knowing that the man learned more easily when he paired the two. “No. Thank you, Patton. However,… I know date night isn’t for another few days, but I thought it would be nice to perhaps participate in some extracurricular activities.” he explained.

He watched as Patton gave a squeal of excitement and began to bounce in his excitement. The sight had Logan’s lips turning up with affection. He truly adored the man before him. It wasn’t the first time he considered himself one of the luckiest men on the planet.

‘What… have… in… mind?’ Patton signed in a rush, making Logan struggle to keep up.

“Perhaps a board game? We still haven’t opened the newest expansion to Mansions of Maddness.” He reminded.

“Yes!” Patton squeal. Logan certainly didn’t need signs to understand that bit. “I’ll go make some snacks while you set up!” he urged before rushing off, not even bothering to use ASL.

Logan pushed to his feet slowly, still pulling on his ear, watching Patton disappear around the corner. He supposed that all and all life was pretty good. Sure, he would never be able to enjoy the lectures he use to listen to on the way to work in the same way, or Bach and Mozart as he read, but Patton was still there. Logan was alive and well. The entire incident brought them closer than ever be-

He stumbled, as he headed for the shelf filled with a variety of games, suddenly growing dizzy as pain washed through him. His hand moved, from where it had been pulling on his earlobe, to massage his temple as he leaned against the wall practically gasping from it all.

For a moment, the world stood still. It was just him, bracing himself against the wall, the sound of his blood rushing in his ears. His heart beat began to speed up, sounding as if it were about to explode. Everything was so loud! Too loud!

Then… slowly… The whisper of a whistle made its way towards him. The sound was soft and heavenly like the nightingale in June. No, it put the nightingale to shame. His eyes began to sting with the force of his tears, a hand dropping to cover his mouth, hanging open in disbelief. The whistling shifted to a soft breathless, happy, singing.

He pushed off the wall, stumbling towards the kitchen, tears flowing freely as he was overwhelmed with emotions. He braced himself against the frame of the door as he watched Patton move about in his preparations, back still turned to the man.

“Do, a deer, a female deer.” Pattons soft, sweet, voice came. “Re, a drop of golden sun. Mi, a name I call myself; Fa, a long, long way to run.” He continued before switching back to whistling as he began to pour pretzels into a bowl.

“So.” Logan’s voice came, the word broken on his lips. The sound made the smaller man jump before chuckling and turning towards his other half. The sight of Logan barely keeping himself upright as the tears continued to fall had his smile disappearing instantly. “A needle pulling thread.” He finished making Patton’s brows furrow in confusion.

“Lo?” He mumbled softly. His body began to tense as he started putting the pieces together.

“La, a note to follow So,” Logan continued with a broken laugh as he stepped forward.

Patton’s eyes grew wide in shock and he had to brace a hand on the counter behind him to steady himself. The doctor had said it was possible for Logan to regain his hearing but he hadn’t truly believed… Wouldn’t allow himself to hope…

“Ti…” Patton continued a bit shakily. “a drink with jam and bread.” He finished, the sound muffled as he hid his mouth behind his hand.

“That,” Logan smiled moving forward and placing his hands on Patton’s cheeks and guiding him to look up at the taller man. “will bring us back to Do.”

A sob escaped the smaller man as he practically collapsed into the other’s arms. Logan’s own legs gave out sending them both to the cold tiles below. He buried his face in the honey locks of his lover as he allowed himself the cry with relief, clinging to the other man.

“I hear you.” he mumbled incoherently. “I hear you.” he sobbed.

La fin


	3. 50 Shades of Strawberry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February Prompts! Day 3!
> 
> Today's prompt: Bribe/Bite
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original Post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190620580777/50-shades-of-strawberry
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety
> 
> NSFW... Kinda

“Just one bite.” Roman whined once more. “It won’t kill you I promise.”

Virgil gave the far-too-handsome man a flat look over the strawberry he was presenting to him. “Roman. I said no.” He responded evenly.

“But… Raincloud… Please?” he begged once more. This was getting very old very fast. Virgil was starting to get antsy. Perhaps, it was time for a bit of payback for all of Roman’s annoyances.

“Fine.” Virgil grumbled. He leaned forward, a hand darting out to grasp Roman’s wrist, holding it in place. He tried not to appreciate how soft the other man’s skin was, or how he always seemed to radiate heat as he bent lower.

His dark gaze met Roman’s hazel one, remaining glued there as his lips parted slowly. They brushed against the firm red flesh of the berry, taking it into his mouth slowly, lips forming gently around its perfectly ripe body.

Roman tensed, eyes growing a bit wide at the sight before him. The room seemed to grow a bit warmer as he was pulled into the scene as if hypnotized by Aphrodite herself. He felt his throat contract as he swallowed down his sudden nervousness, Virgil’s gaze drawing him in. The darker dressed man allowed his teeth to glide into the sweet succulence that Roman still held between his fingers.

Finally, Virgil’s gaze lowered, moving downwards until he seemed to surrender himself to his other senses, eyes closed to allow their power over him to grow. A low grumbling noise escaped from deep in his chest, the sound a mix of a pleasurable hum and an intoxicating moan.

Ruby liquid trailed over his bottom lip, pulling Roman’s attention as it spilled over his chin, caressing the length of his neck, pooling at his collarbone. Roman’s tongue darted out to wet his suddenly chapped lips.

Sudden warmth had his gaze snapping back to the things Virgil was doing with his mouth. The strawberry was gone, leaving the other man on clean up duty. His gaze lifted to Roman’s once more, taking in the prima donna’s flushed features, knowing he had successfully captivated his audience. 

He twisted his wrist gently turning Roman’s palm up, the delicate pink residual liquid gliding across the soft contour of his metacarpus. Virgil didn’t hesitate to lean further across the table, hoodie catching on the edge and forcing his collar lower, exposing more delicately pale skin. 

His tongue pressed against Roman’s digits, trailing after the sweet nectar slowly. Another low hum of approval as his mouth inched lower, gliding across soft supple skin stopping just above where his fingers still wrapped around Roman’s wristed. His lips closed around the vein pulsing erratically there, sucking the last few drops of soft rose from the spot before he pulled away with a smack of his lips.

Roman shifted uncomfortably where he sat in his chair, gaze still wide with shock and arousal as Virgil released him. 

“That…” Roman breathed, voice a bit shaky, earning an arched brow from the darker man. 

“That was pay back.” Virgil replied darkly, seemingly an entirely different person than only a moment ago. “I fucking hate strawberries.” He scoffed as he stood, chair skidding on the floor as he strode apathetically from the room. 

Roman watched him go, emotions swirling; the most prominent of which being confusion. He pulled his hand to his chest, cradling it with a mix of awe and concern, eyes unfocused and staring into nothingness as he tried to gather himself. 

“What…. The fuck just happened?” He breathed helplessly. 

La Fin!


	4. Paranoia and Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February Prompts! Day 4!
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original Post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190645689566/paranoia-and-promises
> 
> Today's prompt: Promise/Paranoid
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety

“You’re being paranoid.” Roman whispered softly, leaning in close so that the only person that could hear was the two of them.

“I’m really not.” Virgil grumbled in return, face flushing deeply. “Roman, you can’t be serious. I won’t be mad if you back out of this now… I don’t want you living a lie.” he continued to urge desperately.

Roman offered a soft smile stepping closer, reducing the space between them. His hands lifted to rest against Virgil’s cheeks, cupping them gently. Their breaths linger between them, foreheads pressing against one another.

“Stormcloud, I want you to listen to me. Listen carefully.” Roman whispered softly. He watched as Virgil took a deep calming breath, just like Logan had shown him to do. “Can you do that?”

A nod, slight and soft but still there.

“Good, good.” Roman whispered. “I love you with every ounce of my being. I have since the first moment you hissed at me. My love for you is never ceasing. I love you now as I always will. I have no regrets, no doubts. I am here and I always will be… even if you don’t want to do this. If you want to back out of this, you can. I’m with you. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to… But for the record, I’m in this one hundred percent, no matter what you choose.”

Virgil sniffled softly as the tears began to roll down his cheeks. This was a lot. His own hands lifted to cover Roman’s. “No… No… I want this. I want this more than anything.” he reassured, leaning in as if to kiss him.

“Whoa, there kiddos.” Patton’s voice interrupted, causing Virgil to pause. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we? I know I ‘Groomed’ you better.” He added with a small giggle.

Roman couldn’t help but give a roll of his eyes at the pun. Still, the words got their point across and Virgil pulled away with a small bashful smile as they continued.

“Alrighty, back to the best part! Do you, Virgil, take Roman to be your wedded husband, to cherish in love and in friendship, in strength and in weakness, in success and in disappointment, to love him faithfully, today, tomorrow, and for as long as the two of you shall live?” Patton continued, repeating the words from before Virgil began to panic, his own gaze becoming a bit watery with excitement.

“I do.” Virgil breathed, his smile only growing.

La Fin.


	5. The Cheshire Cat (Ballet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February Prompts! Day 5!
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original Post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190662481417/the-cheshire-cat-february-prompts-25-prompt-list
> 
> Reference: Reference: https://youtu.be/n7AaZhEOJSY?t=93
> 
> Today's prompt: Lamb/Leap
> 
> Ship: Logince

“You can do this, Lo.” Roman reassured, taking his partner’s hands between his own. “You’ve studied all your equations, right?”

Logan hesitated. Roman didn’t understand, this was just another role to him. He was so handsome and talented that if he messed this up he could be recast. Logan though… This was it. He was a lanky Brainiac that wasn’t supposed to have any sort of coordination. He’d once been turned down just because he wore glasses!

“Of course, I have, Roman.” He sighed, adjusting the rims of his spectacles. “As you have repeatedly reminded me, there is a difference between knowing the physics behind such a feat and actually preforming it.” He corrected.

“I know… I know.” Roman sighed softly. “But you’ve got this. Come on Pocket Protector, all you have to do is trust me…. Trust me and leap, Logan.” Roman repeated, meeting the slender man’s gaze one more. “You can do that.”

Logan nodded, still unsure but not allowing it to show. “Trust you and leap.” He mimicked as Roman pulled away.

He could do this… He could definitely do it... It was nothing more than balance, lift and drag…

He took a few steadying breaths as he watched Roman back away, stopping only when he reached the middle of the room. He was as handsome as ever in his tight shirt and tighter trousers. His stance was perfect, as always. Another calming breath.

Trust him and leap…. Trust him and leap….

Logan removed his glasses, focusing on his breathing as he carefully folded them up and set them aside.

“Trust him and leap.” Logan breathed so softly only he could hear. This was it… If he fell, so be it…

Logan moved, long legs stretching out with each step, closing the distance between them quickly.

One shallow breath… then another…

He pressed firmly against the polished wood and launched himself into the air, praying to all that was factual that Roman was right.

He twisted as Roman shifted to catch him in his arms. One forearm beneath his knees, the other wrapping around his back.

Logan felt himself dip low as the larger man allowed his weight to sink in. Perhaps if he hadn’t been prepared for the gravitational pull or the number of joules used lift him then he would no doubt be panicking. As it stood however, he had done all the calculations. He knew how many joules it would take to lift him and the average Roman used for such an exertion. Roman was more than capable… He just needed Logan to trust him.

A moment later Roman was lifting him, tossing him into the air.

Logan consciously refrained from holding his breath and his hands went to the other’s broad shoulders.

He twisted, toes pointing. It was all about balance now. Everything was about balance.

He felt Roman’s hands slide down his sides and rest at his hips.

He measured his breathing carefully…. In…. Out…. In… Out.

The one hundred and eighty degree split of his legs was something to be proud of if he weren’t so focused on the way Roman’s hands dug into his thigh, the other dropping away.

Logan felt as if he were floating; on the precipice between flying and falling. The only thing keeping his steady were the hands bracing himself against Roman’s shoulders and Roman’s palm firmly on his side.

For a moment they were frozen in this position, gaze locked in circle of silent reassurance.

Roman’s free hand lifted to brace against Logan’s hip once more. The slender man shifted, turning his body slowly in a circle, his fingers dancing across the broad man’s shoulders eventually falling away. Roman’s hold shifted with him until it rested at the small of his back, now the only thing supporting Logan’s weight.

Steady breaths in…. and out….

He allowed the weight of his shoulders to drop, practically placing him upside down above Roman’s head. He stretched his arms out, for both balance and lift before pulling himself back up, abdomen burning with effort.

He brought his arms down, Roman lowering him slowly as he took a step to widen his stance. Logan shifted, sliding down Roman’s torso until the toes of his left foot touched the waxed floor, legs still angled at ninety degrees.

Arms lifted parallel to the floor.

Roman guided Logan’s waist lower.

Legs at one hundred eighty degrees. Left foot shifted flat against the floor for balance, one arm reaching towards the ceiling the other still parallel.

Then slowly… back to resting position.

Logan and Roman’s chests rose and fell in quick burst from the exertion of it all. The reality of what they had just done slowly sinking in.

“Brilliant!” Dee’s voice sounded, pulling the two dancer’s attention to him. “Bravo, Bravo… Magnifico!” he applauded, gloved hands clapping apathetically.

Logan glanced at Roman practically beaming.

“The Cheshire Cat.” Roman grinned just as proudly, still a bit breathless. “Not the most graceful performance but you did it.” he pointed out, moving to stand in front of the other man.

Logan couldn’t contain himself any longer. He stepped forward, throwing his arms around the other man and squeezing. The typically standoffish individual far too enthusiastic to be as bothered as he usually was by human contact.

“/We/ did it, Roman!” He pointed out. “Perhaps you are far more intelligent than I give you credit for.” He teased.

“Hey!” Roman whined with a small chuckle, returning the embrace. “You’re not so bad yourself, Teach.” He teased softly.

La Fin!

Reference: https://youtu.be/n7AaZhEOJSY?t=93

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a Part 2 during another prompt this moth.


	6. Baby Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For February Prompts on Tumblr: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original Post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190685728607/walking-on-infants
> 
> Prompt 1: Early/Echo
> 
> Pairing: Intrulogical (Not that great at writing Remus but we’ll see how this goes)

It started with a thimble, Patton’s Thimble to be exact, not that Logan was aware of it at the time. In fact, there was quite a lot of information Logan had no idea of at that point in time. The worst of it all was things were about to get a lot worse.

Logan sat at his desk tirelessly working away at the steady flow of information that passed through his small work area. It wasn’t much but it was his designated corner of his room where he didn’t have to worry about anything but being productive. Or so he thought…

He had been working steadily for a little over an hour when the smell of pickles, and some form of cheese he couldn’t quite place, had him glancing up. The smell wasn’t exactly unpleasant though it was quite unique in its own right.

He glanced over his shoulder, gaze searching for the source that he knew he would find there. Remus sat on the edge of the logical side’s bed, a large disturbing grin on his face as he bounced excitedly.

“Hello, Remus.” Logan greeted simply, setting down his pen and turning to give the man his utmost attention. “While I acknowledge that you are always welcome here, I do believe knocking is customary.” Logan reminded.

“Knocking is so dull, Logan.” Remus scoffed with a wave of his hand. “Besides, I have something for you!” Remus giggled with a small applause of his own.

“For me?” Logan repeated, brows furrowing in confusion. He couldn’t recall doing anything that would warrant a gift and, as much as he did care a great deal for Remus, he wasn’t so sure he felt confident that he would enjoy whatever the man had in store. “That is very kind of you Remus, but-“

“Butter on a walrus’ butt?!” Remus blurted, unable to contain himself. The darker side of creativity was obviously over excited. Whatever this was it had to be important to the man. He was usually far better at controlling his outbursts when he was calm. Logan supposed whatever was in store, he could handle.

“Quite.” Logan offered with a soft smile. “What is it that you have?” He inquired softly holding out a hand.

Remus’ excitement seemed to double as his eyes brightened at Logan’s cooperation. The strange individual began to dig in his pockets until he managed to fish out the small metal tool in question. He placed the thimble, the initial’s P.S. engraved in the side, gently in Logan’s palm before peering at him expectantly.

Logan examined the small object carefully, knowing it was probably best not to point out that it didn’t actually belong to Remus. He wasn’t afraid to admit that he wasn’t quite sure of the importance of the gesture but then again, he usually wasn’t sure of anything with Remus. It was that fact that actually made spending time with him quite enjoyable. The man was a mystery and Logan loved to learn.

“It is lovely Remus.” He reassured, making the man’s smile brighten even more. “I am afraid I have nothing for you in return.”

“That’s perfect! I like nothing!” Remus reassured before disappearing far more quickly than he usually did, leaving Logan to contemplate the interaction for a long while.

……

The next incident happened a few hours later and was slightly more unsettling.

Logan was taking his daily hour of relaxation, curling up in his oversized reading chair with an encyclopedia of astronomy in his lap. He had read the book a few times, but it was one of his favorites. By the time that Remus appeared Logan was just getting to the good part.

The strange man appeared in the center of Logan’s room, his usual flamboyantly green suit replaced by a flowing almost lime colored gown that took up almost a one-foot radius around the man. His hair was still a curled mess and he was drenched in perspiration as he hurried forward, breathless, and sank to his knees in front of the logical man.

Logan eyed him a moment. He was quite beautiful dressed in such a way, gown pooling around him as he grinned up at him. Of course, Logan found him quite attractive in his suit as well, so there was no real surprise there.

“Salutations Remus. I didn’t expect you to visit again so soon. You look stunning by the way.” Logan complimented as he set his book aside.

“Like seaweed stuck between two starfish going at it!” Remus commented confidently. Logan took the words as affirmation to his compliment. Remus always did see things in a different light, he wouldn’t be surprised if that was meant as a good thing, though very inaccurate.

“Quite. Was there something I could help you with? You look as if you have exerted yourself quite a bit.” The logical side pointed out.

Remus didn’t bother with a response however, instead he began to dig under his arm, brows furrowing in concentration. The beautifully dressed man proceeded to produce a browning apple slice from his arm pit and gleefully offered it up to Logan.

The overall level of confusion Logan had been experiencing with the other man seemed to skyrocket. Another gift, one with a meaning he was even more unsure of. He hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

“Thank you, Remus…” he offered carefully, reaching out to accept the slice. “That… is very kind of you.” he studied the slice carefully before setting it aside, still utterly at a loss.

Remus’ excited smile evaporated suddenly at Logan’s reaction. He seemed almost… disappointed; not that Logan could venture a guess as to why. However, before Logic could ask, Remus was gone as quickly as he had appeared.

……

Whatever Logan had done wrong really seemed to upset the other man. Days passed without another word from him. Of course, it wasn’t unusual for Remus to disappear for stretches of time, but something felt off. Logan was certain he had offended the man in some way or another.

It was almost a week before Remus resurfaced. This time the shower of gifts was a bit more aggressive. The first incident after Logan’s injustice was during Logan and Virgil’s weekly video game night. The entirety of the interaction with Remus was very short, very confusing and very hot.

Logan had just sat down his controller in lieu of more snacks when Remus appeared directly in his path. Not expecting the man, Logan and the other man collided sending the bowl of hot soup in his hands pitching up and covering them both in the murky liquid.

Logan pulled back at the pain while Remus seemed to just stare silently onward. By the time Logan managed to recover enough to make sure the other was alright, he was already gone, leaving Logan and a frankly distressed Virgil in his wake.

….

The next was approximately a day later when Remus appeared just long enough to shove a number of seemingly random objects into the other’s hands before disincorporating as suddenly as he had appeared.

While Logan was quite accustomed to a certain amount of puzzlement that came with associating with Remus, things were getting a bit out of hand. Something needed to be done. Logan needed to find a way to understand. However, if Remus was going to continue to disappear before Logan could get his answers, then perhaps he could settle for the next best thing.

…..

Roman pulled his door open swiftly, revealing a concerned looking Logan standing before him, arms wrapped around a rather large satchel.

“Hey Teach, fancy seeing you here.” He teased lightly. It wasn’t often that Logan ventured out of his comfort zone and headed towards the more creative side of the Thomassphere.

“I need your help.” Logan replied, getting straight to the point. “May I come in?”

Roman arched a brow at that, adding another mark to ‘All-the-things-that-are-out-of-place-with-this-picture’ list that he was already making in his head. Still, he stepped aside, motioning for the other man to enter.

Logan didn’t bother with pleasantries or small talk as he moved into the room. He was on a mission to gain some much-needed knowledge and he needed it quickly before things got worse.

“I was hoping you could assist me with these.” He informed before turning out his bag onto Roman’s bed. Out tumbled the thimble and apple slice (perfectly preserved due to Remus’ power of imagination) along with the bowl the soup had spilt from, ornate sheath, a knife from the same time period, an outrageously ornate hand-carved wooden spoon, a small fan and a hollowed stick.

Roman frowned as Logan dumped his ‘junk’ onto the man’s perfectly made bed but didn’t comment. Instead he moved to inspect the objects carefully, picking up one or another before placing it back down. For a long while he was silent before something seemed to click in his mind.

“By the Gays!” He began to laugh, the sound booming through the room. “This is rich!” He continued, Logan looking on obviously unamused.

“What is it? What are they?” He urged.

“Logan…” Roman breathed, doubling over as he continued to laugh. “You… Logic is…” He wheezed, testing Logan’s patience.

“Roman, I would appreciate it if you took this matter seriously. I am concerned for your brother’s wellbeing.” He pointed out, causing the laughing to cease immediately.

“Wait… What?” Roman mumbled, smile fading. “Remus gave you these things?”

“Yes.”

“Oh… dude…” He sighed softly before sinking down onto the edge of his bed, running a hand through his perfectly groomed hair. “That is… well… surprising… but then again it /is/ Remus.” He sided.

“Forgive me Roman, but I am afraid I am not following. What is surprising? What does this mean? Whatever it is, I fear I’ve offended your brother in some way because of it and I need to make it right.” He huffed in annoyance.

“Right… Sorry.” Roman mumbled before turning to collect one of the items. “Honestly, I’m surprised you haven’t figured it out Pocket Protector.” He teased once more before lifting the wooden spoon up to examine. “You’re being courted, wooed, pursued.” He clarified.

“Hardly.” Logan scoffed, face flushing as he glanced away.

“Just because it is not a modern version doesn’t mean it isn’t the case.” Roman pointed out. “Many cultures have many different forms of courting.” He reminded. “You should know this, Bookworm.”

“I don’t handle matters of love, that is yours and Patton’s job.” He retorted.

“Fair enough. Then listen to me when I say that this is the case.” He offered out the spoon. “This is called a Welsh Love Spoon. It is from the Early 17th century. It is supposed to be hand carved by your lover and exchanged. They still are given out now-days, but it isn’t as common as it was.” He explained as Logan accepted the spoon once more, examining it in a new light.

Warmth bloomed in his chest as he realized how much hard work Remus must have applied in order to make it for him. For Logan. It was… sweet.

“That’s probably the most PG one.” Roman explained before selecting the small fan. “That and this Victorian fan. It was used to determine if you were available or interested in a man. One wrong move and you could offend half the country.” He handed it over before collecting the stick. “Early 18th century no one was allowed to be with their suitors without parents present so lovers would use these sticks so whisper through so that their parents couldn’t hear while still remaining a distance apart that was considered ‘decent’.” He handed it over and moved on. “I assume this bowl had some kind of soup in it?”

“Yes. I believe it may have been some form of vegetable?” Logan offered, his chest tight with emotions he wasn’t quite used to feeling.

“Celery.” Roman explained. “Hot creamed celery is a main dish at Amish weddings. It was one of the only ways you knew someone was courting because they were required to keep it secret. So, you check their garden for ingredients of celery soup. That’s how you find out if someone was about to be married. As for the sheath, early 19th century, Finnish. Women would wear it in their girdle once they were of age. If they managed to catch a man’s eye the man would buy or forge a knife and present it to them. It was basically a proposal. If a woman accepted the blade they’d be engaged. If not, their knife was returned. The thimble is an early Puritan practice. They didn’t believe in wedding rings, saw them as frivolous, so they used thimbles instead.” He mumbled, examining the inscription on the small bucket. “Patton’s been looking for this you know; been going on and on about ‘sewing safety’.” He chuckled.

“And the apple slice?” Logan pressed, heart racing. He was reeling. He couldn’t believe Remus had felt this way and he hadn’t noticed!

Roman’s nose crinkled at the mention of the browning object, not bothering to touch it. “Yeah, that one definitely has Remus all over it. Literally.” He grumbled. “It is an early 19th-century Austrian ritual. Eligible women would keep an apple slice under their armpit during dances. At the end of the day they would present the slice to the person they most fancied. If the person felt the same, they would eat the slice. If they didn’t eat it then they rejected the girl.” Roman shivered in disgust. “Dodged a bullet on that one.” He teased lightly.

So that was why Remus was upset! Logan rushed to scoop all the items back into the bag, fumbling a bit in his hurry. This was bad! Remus thought Logan had rejected him! He needed to fix this!

“Whoa, slow your roll.” Roman urged, moving to stand. “Did I say something? I didn’t mean to offend.”

“No offense taken, Roman.” Logan reassured frantically as he tossed the bag over his shoulder. “Thank you for your help. I have to go.” He rushed before disappearing out the door, the creative side not even having a chance to reply.

….

Two days had passed since Logan’s conversation with Roman. He had had a lot of time to think about how to respond to the eccentric individual that was currently courting him. Time to think and time to muster his courage.

Which brought him to the darker sides’ territory. His hand rested on the knife, dangling in its sheath as it hung around his neck as he followed Virgil silently. The smaller side had questioned Logan’s mental state when he had requested guidance through the area but he had come around eventually.

“You’re on your own from here.” Virgil informed him as they stopped in front of the gate to the estate.

“Right. Thank you, Virgil.” Logan nodded.

“Don’t mention it.” He replied. “Seriously… Don’t.” Virgil tucked his hands into his pockets before pausing. “Good luck, Lo.” He mumbled before dematerializing.

Logan took a moment to breathe before heading into the courtyard. “Remus!” He called loudly. “Remus! I need to speak with-“

“Logic?! You can’t be here!” The man’s nasally and panicked voice came, causing Logan to spin on his heels. “If the others find out-“

“Remus! I fear that an apology is in order.” Logan interrupted, ignoring the concern obvious on the other’s features. It was a look Logan had never witnessed from Remus, but he didn’t have time to consider it.

“Is that…” Remus mumbled, gaze dipping to the knife around Logan’s neck, offering a slow, soft smile that was far too toothy.

“Yes.” Logan replied, glancing down at the blade in question. “I have so much to apologize for. I had no idea what you were doing.”

“You should go. You don’t belong here.” Remus urged moving forward to take Logan’s arm.

“No!” He pulled away. The action allowed him a moment to dig into his pocket and produce the withered apple slice, causing Remus to pause. “I was ignorant of the importance to you. For that, I am deeply apologetic.” In one quick movement, Logic did the most illogical thing in his existence. He shoved the slice into his mouth, swallowing it down.

Remus’ chest tightened uncomfortably at the sight. He had grown accustomed to rejection. Everywhere he turned, he was ushered away or shunned, seen as disgusting or inappropriate. Yet, the one person in the entirety of their world that everyone either feared or respected, that made everything made sense had just… had just accepted his courtship, his affection. Remus, the worst part of Thomas… Tears filled his eyes as waves of emotion began to wash through him, the sight making Logan far too aware of his inadequacy.

“I… Was that incorrect?” He asked unsure. “Roman had assured me that- Mmph!” A startled grunt escaped him as Remus pulled him into a kiss, mouth slamming against Logan’s desperately. The world around them disappeared (literally) as Logan melted into the embrace, rematerializing safely in Logan’s bedroom once more.

“Does this mean I can smash that ass of yours now?” Remus asked excitedly when he finally pulled away, leaving Logan a bit breathless.

“Perhaps, we should refrain from such large steps so quickly.” Logan replied, obviously a bit embarrassed by the lewd suggestion. “Yes, far smaller and much slower baby steps.” He nodded, as he adjusted his tie. “Also, if I may, the next time you decide to court someone, perhaps it would be best if you refrain from using early century methods?” He suggested, earning a giggle from the other man.

“We get to step on babies?!” Remus bounced excitedly.

La Fin

Reference: https://www.mentalfloss.com/article/28950/9-strange-courtship-rituals-around-world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! 
> 
> This was perhaps the most difficult fic thus far. I really wanted to challenge myself by writing Remus and I feel as if I did just that. I hope you enjoyed it!


	7. The Light In Your Smile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For February Prompts on Tumblr: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> A continuation of Just What the Doctor Ordered.  
> AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22338754/chapters/53414359
> 
> Tumblr: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190398490307/just-what-the-doctor-ordered
> 
> Prompt 1: Yellow/Yeti
> 
> Pairing: Remile

“Guurrlll!” Remy’s voice came, pulling Emile from his stupor once more. He still didn’t understand how this was happening. One moment he was just the therapist of a very attractive and very sassy individual and the next he was being told he was going on a date with said patient. Naturally he would never date a patient, but it seemed as if Remy already knew and had already withdrawn all of his appointments. Emile was the luckiest man in existence.

“Look at that Queen!” Remy gasped rushing towards the ring toss and pulling Emile along, fingers still tangled in his.

Emile stumbled to a stop next him, following his gaze. Hanging from the ceiling in the far-right corner of the booth sat the ugliest yellow stuffed animal he had ever seen. He was fairly certain it was some kind of ape though he couldn’t be too sure…. Or perhaps it was a yeti?

“Five dollars, five rings. Try your luck sweetheart?” The woman behind the bar offered.

“Luck?” Remy scoffed, sipping at his drink. “Have you seen the snack I’m with? Luck has nothing to do with it Gurl.” He retorted making her grin broaden.

Emile couldn’t help but flush a bit at that, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. He wasn’t sure how Remy managed to be so… Remy, but he loved every moment of it.

“How many rings for the…. Ape?” Emile offered, still unsure of what the thing was.

“You mean the yeti?” She asked.

“No, he means that gorgeous Diva in the back, Gurl.” Remy offered, motioning vaguely towards the yellow yeti. The good took the correction with a grain of salt, laughing lightly.

“Hit all five rings and its yours.” She explained making Remy frown in disappointment. Most of these games were rigged anyways. He should have known it would take so much to get his prize.

“I’ll take thirty.” Emile interrupted offering out the money and earning a surprised look from the other man.

“Picani…” Remy mumbled softly.

“Its Emile.” He reminded with a gentle squeeze of his hand. “I got this, ‘Gurl’.” He teased lightly, accepting the first five rings with a mumble of thanks. Remy took a step back, giving him some space to work.

….

Half an hour and almost a hundred dollars later Emile was one his last bundle of rings.

“Emile…” Remy breathed softly wrapping his arms around his and holding him close. “You don’t have to keep doing this-“

“No, I want to.” Emile smiled, covering Remy’s hand with his as he turned toward him. “A Queen deserves a court, even if its just a giant yellow Diva. Besides,” he sighed, “its not just the yeti. Its your smile.” Remy’s brows furrowed in confusion. “That sounds a bit corny doesn’t it?” He chuckled nervously. “But I’m serious. I’ve always loved your smile and I don’t get to see it often. So, if it takes emptying my wallet and making a fool of myself then so be it. I didn’t realize how shaded my life was until your smile brighten up my world. I’m going to get that yeti for you.”

Remy couldn’t help but give a snort of amusement at that, the smile in question splitting his features. He ran a hand through his hair before giving the other man a playful smack, blushing furiously.

“Guurrl…” He breathed softly. “I meant that you’re allowed to just buy the yeti. You don’t have to keep playing.” He clarified.

“Oh.” The other man mumbled, feeling utterly ignorant.

“But I like your answer too.” He hummed pleasantly, pressing closer still clinging to his arm.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Remy reassured as Emile paid the booth’s attendant for the yellow yeti and handed it over.

Remy tucked the yeti under his arm, still having the other wrapped around Emile’s. He was practically beaming with pride, his two best bitches at his side.

La Fin


	8. The Cat and The Raccoon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February Prompts are here!
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190707748632/the-cat-and-raccoon
> 
> Today's prompt: Closed/Capture
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety... Kinda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

Roman stumbled, feeling the forest floor rise up to slam against his already injured body. It wasn't the first time he had ended up sprawled among the dead leaves and browning grass. This time it was different however; this time he wouldn’t be getting back up. 

He curled closer around himself, breath fogging in the cold air before him, the only warmth coming from the burning wound in his side. The pressure he had been applying to the spot began to ease as his energy drained, the red liquid staining his fingers steaming in the cold air. 

He couldn't fight anymore… couldn't continue… Maybe if he just let his eyes rest… just for a moment…

………………..

His usual dreams of heroic adventures and showers of adoration were nowhere to be found in the coldness of this new dreamscape. His unconsciousness was filled with horrific visions of his burning kingdom, his citizens being slaughtered before him, his family lost among them. 

Within these dreams, there was one consistency, one aspect that stood out among the rest: aman, not much younger than the prince, but far more beautiful. Seen in no more than a glimpse or a silhouette against the orange and red flames, between the houses or far in the distance. Roman couldn’t be sure if he was an angel, come to deliver him or a demon, here to drag him to the deepest pits of Hell. The one thing Roman was sure of was that he was the most stunning creature he had ever seen. 

……….

"I'm well aware of that, Logan,” an angry hissing voice came. "Why do you think he's tied up?" 

Roman's head was pounding as he slowly began to gain consciousness. He shivered slightly at the cold that had crept up his spine. He absently leaned forward towards the warmth that heated his face and chest almost uncomfortable, to try and get away from the ever present cold that surrounded him. 

He willed his heavy eyelids to open, eyes watering with effort. Slowly, he blinked away the tears, the world around him coming into focus.

"I know it was stupid! You don't have to keep reminding me,” the voice came once more in a low growl. A hooded figure hunched over the small fire that crackled not far off from where Roman leaned against a large oak. Their back was turned towards him as they tended to the flames. It took a moment to realize that the figure, who he assumed was male, was speaking to a… Cat? Yes. A moment later the man turned to face the small black feline next to him, face still hidden beneath the dark fabric wrapped around him. 

"I didn't spend all of it, but what would you have me do? We need him,” the hooded man continued, earning a soft meow from his companion. "Whatever,” he scoffed. The cat seemed to sniff the air sensing Roman's suddenly conscious state, turning to glance at him. "If you don't like it, go back to the oth-" he cut himself off, tensing slightly as if something spooked him. 

"You're awake early,” he mumbled before pulling his hood down and glancing Roman's way. 

The prince's breath caught in his throat at the sight before him: the same angelic image from his dreams. He was somehow more beautiful than he had imagined. His mismatched gaze seemed somehow unworldly and exotic as he pinned Roman with a glare. Needless to say, Roman was gawking. He needed to pull himself together. 

"I suppose I should just be glad you're alive,” the man sighed, turning back to the fire. "It would have been a waste to leave you like that." 

Roman did his best to pull himself together now that the other man's focus was diverted away from him. This was too much… Just because this guy was literally the man of his dreams did not mean he needed to lose himself. He took a deep calming breath, noticing for the first time, ropes that seemed to tighten around his middle. 

"I can't move,” the prince whined, managing a small glare towards the other.

"Mmhm,” the cloaked man responded absently, his cat inching closer to Roman as if to inspect him, its cold dark gaze eerily calculating.

"Who are you?” Roman demanded, his voice raising with the command he had grown accustomed to over his lifetime in the palace. "And what do you-"

The man suddenly materialized closer to the prince, hunched low, inches from his face. Electricity seemed to fizz in the air between them, their breaths mingling. Roman’s face heated, having very little to do with anger. 

"Keep talking and you won't be able to speak either,” the other man stated calmly, pinning him with a flat stare. The even tone mixed with the sudden teleportation and the threatening glow of his left eye had Roman's hair standing on end. 

The man paused, waiting for Roman to test his patience. Not that Roman could even consider doing such a thing with such a stunning creature so close. He could barely remember his name as he took in the soft paleness of the other’s features. It wasn’t until the man was pulling away that Roman finally found his voice. 

"You're a wi- Mmph!" Roman began to accuse, his words cutting off briefly as his jaw snapped shut. Try as he might the prince could only manage a grunt or hum as the witch brought his hand down from where he had snapped his fingers. 

He couldn’t help but give a mischievous grin as he turned back towards his captive. The smile was even more breathtaking than it had any right to be, not that Roman could truly appreciate it in his panicked state. 

"Did you think I was lying?" he asked as he pulled up his hood, an arm jutting out as if he were offering it as a perch. The black cat, still sitting patiently at Roman's feet trotted over to its master and pounced up onto his elbow. 

"I know,” the witch growled at it in annoyance at the creature. "Enough with the lecture,” he waved a hand absently over the fire to extinguish it with a single motion. 

"My name is Virgil,” he explained, moving back to the prince,"I'm the one that found you bleeding out on the side of the road. So, maybe," he grunted as he tightened Roman's bonds by hand, “before you start opening that big mouth of yours and drawing the attention of whoever that was that was chasing you; you might stop to say ‘thank you’,” he grumbled, pulling Roman to his feet. 

Virgil wrapped the end of the rope around his hand and moved towards the opposite side of the clearing, obviously expecting Roman to follow. The length between them pulled taunt as Roman dug his heels in, stubbornly refusing to obey. The action earned a huff from the witch, the cat climbing to sit on his shoulder calmly cleaning one of his paws. . 

"Listen, Princey." Virgil grimaced, stomping towards him. He was obviously done with this whole charade. "Your kingdom is burning. The people you called family are gone or scattered. You would be dead if it weren't for me!" he pointed out, pressing a finger sharply into Roman's very broad, very firm chest. "And knowing how your family feels about magic users, I'd say that you owe me more than one favor, and I would prefer to keep you alive long enough to pay up! So, I suggest you follow before I make you follow, capeesh?" 

Roman lifted his chin in defiance. For all he knew, this Devil in Angel's clothing was part of the same witch coven that was currently burning his kingdom to the ground. Going with him could be the same as sticking his head into a guillotine. 

"Are you serious?!" Virgil hissed, head turned listening to the feline on his shoulder. The creepy cat peered at Roman coldly. If Roman ventured a guess, it was either contemplating eating his eyes or peering deep into his soul… either way Roman did not like it! "A guillotine?" Virgil shook his head. "You're so overdramatic. Then again, I suppose that is what I should expect from a prince." 

A chill ran the length of his spine at the words. Could…. Did he… Had the witch just read his mind?

"I have a name and it's not 'the witch'!" Virgil scoffed, giving his captive an aggressive shove. "We don't have time for this!” Virgil gave another wave of his hand and the prince began to lift off the ground, much to his dismay. He didn’t drift far, feet barely high enough not to scrap against the twigs and leaves beneath him. . 

"Shut up!” the witch hissed, making Roman start, looking more agitated than ever as he shoved the hissing cat from his shoulder. "I'm doing what I have to.” Virgil didn't hesitate as he began to walk, Roman trailing close behind, the cat bringing up the rear. 

Roman took the opportunity to fight against his bonds, causing them to tighten almost painfully, red welts appearing where they rubbed to harshly against his skin. He got the feeling that the witch was well aware of his efforts but said nothing,allowing them to fall into an uncomfortable silence. 

.……

Roman wasn't sure how long they had been walking (well… floating), but he knew it had to have been hours. The morning dew was beginning to coat the plants around them, indicating that dawn was not too far along. 

During the trek, the prince had had a chance to contemplate his situation: his kingdom was either burned to the ground or under new rule. His family was most likely dead, killed by the witches from a neighboring kingdom. He was now captured by one of the said witches and was no doubt about to be presented to whatever lord now ruled. So, basically…. he was royally fucked. Pun intended. Surely, he could still figure a way out of this. 

Virgil stumbled, catching himself on the trunk of a tree as he tried to measure his breathing. A moment later, he retched loudly emptying the contents of his stomach onto the forest floor. Roman's feet hit the ground, leaves crunching beneath his boots as he wobbled precariously, the enchantment that had been holding him up gone. 

Something was happening… Could the witch be growing weak?

"Shut up, Lo! I don't care what he thinks!" Virgil snapped at the cat, now sitting patiently next to him, starting to clean one of his paws once more. "Yeah, well as long as he comes along- fuck!" 

Roman felt whatever force had kept his mouth closed give way.

"Thank the Heavens!" Roman sighed softly stretching his jaw this way and that to make sure he hadn't pulled something. He shot a glare towards the witch. "What the hell do you think you-" 

Virgil raised his hand again, silencing Roman once more. The act seemed to worsen whatever was happening to him and he doubled over, vomiting once more. This time, the hold on Roman's tongue along with the ropes around him gave way, freeing him completely.

"Fuck…. No… no… Princey you need to listen to me. You need to keep your mouth closed," Virgil's weak scratchy voice came as he swayed on the verge of collapse.. 

"Why would I ever listen to a witch?!" Roman spat viciously. "Especially one that decided to kidnap me?!" 

"I didn't kidnap you," he argued, "S.. saved you. Lo… Lo, I can't… I'm fad…" he slurred, reaching out for the cat who hurried to press into his hand, attempting to comfort him. 

"Whoa… whoa! Are you alright?" Roman mumbled, reaching out for him just as Virgil collapsed. He managed to catch Virgil’s head before it struck the ground, lowering it gently. 

"'S-bad…. I know… 'orry." Virgil managed as the cat moved to lay on the witch's chest nonchalantly, as if unconcerned. The feline began to softly purr . 

What the hell was going on?! Why hadn't Roman already made a run for it?! He should just leave the witch where he was and go…

Roman moved to do just that. He was a kidnapped prince. He couldn't afford to stay there. His people needed him… Then again… it seemed as if Virgil needed him too. Just like how Roman had needed him when he was laying on the cold damp ground, bleeding. His hand went to the wound at his side as if to emphasize the point. Tension filled his body at the lack of pain from the touch.

His hands fumbled to untucked his blood stained shirt, pulling it high on his chest. The cloth revealed a small patch of soft pale skin, a stark contrast against his usual mocha, where the wound had been. It was gone… completely healed beneath the pale color. 

"Yes, despite my warnings against it, he used far too much of his reserves to aid you." A smooth intellectual voice came. 

Roman gave a start, glancing up to find a half nude man pulling Virgil’s cloak around himself, Virgil nowhere to be found. He reached for his sword, forgetting for a brief moment that he had lost it during a struggle at the castle. 

“Perhaps it would be best if you took a few deep breaths to calm yourself, your Majesty," the lanky man urged, bending low to scoop up the sleeping form of a large raccoon, curled in the same spot that the witch had occupied just a moment ago.

"Who are you and what have you done with the witch?!" Roman demanded. 

The newcomer pinned him with a stare that could chill even the coldest of hearts. His right eye flashed briefly with the same threatening aura as Virgil's had, making Roman go silent without the aid of magic. 

“There is a lot to explain, and unlike my more anxious counterpart, I believe that knowledge is powerful. I can answer many of your questions, but we need to continue onward,” the man explained calmly before offering out the slumbering raccoon. “If you would be kind enough to carry Virgil, I would be grateful.”

Roman eyed the snoring beast, as if touching it would be the worst kind of torture. Could this thing really be the same man whose beauty would haunt the prince for the rest of his existence? Or was this some sort of trick?

“I assure you, it is no trick.” The man explained. Roman frowned at him but gingerly took hold of the large ball of fur. 

“If this is Virgil, then am I to assume that you’re that creepy cat that's been staring at me?” Roman huffed, obviously not believing it for a second… not really anyways. 

“I would not describe myself as ‘creepy’, or staring for that matter, but yes. My name is Logan. I am Virgil’s familiar… Well, in a way. Just as he is mine,” Logan explained before moving on. He collected the pack that rested in the same place Virgil had fallen and slung it over his shoulder. “Come,” he urged as he hurried forward, “we need to make more ground before daybreak or we will never make it to the caves on time.”

Roman was almost certain he was still dreaming… or perhaps he was dead… Either way this was all too much. For once, however, he was thankful for the blissful numbness that masked the bubbling emotions hidden beneath. The loss of his family, his home, his people… it would all hit him later… For now, he stumbled after the tall slender man, hugging the raccoon to his chest, unsure of what else to do. 

To be continued….


	9. The Garden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February Prompts are here!
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190736214232/the-garden
> 
> Today's prompt: Garden/Gentle
> 
> Ship: Logicality

Logan pulled, muscles protesting his abuse. Everything hurt, his body wept with every move, and yet he couldn’t stop now. The ground finally gave way sending him jerking backwards slightly in surprise. He didn’t hesitate to toss the Burdock onto the small pile he had collected. 

Weeds had quickly become the bane of his existence. He could, of course, use some form of weed killer or pesticide but the mere thought of polluting the planet any more than it already was was infuriating. No, he much rather spend his days pulling weed after weed to ensure his garden was safe. Well… It wasn’t exactly ‘his’ garden. 

He sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow and pushing to his feet. His shirt clung to him as he moved, damp and sticky from the Florida heat. Summer was approaching more quickly than he expected and he hadn’t managed to reprogram the sprinkler system in the greenhouse just yet. Still, he had more time before the temperature was high enough to worry about. 

In fact, as Logan scooped up the wilted plants he had just pulled from the top soil he felt a sense of pride. It was time. He was sure of it. 

……..

[Months earlier]

“Patton… Patton are you in here?” Logan’s voice came as he pushed the door open. His gaze shifted over the wilted flowers and decaying vegetables around him, walking deeper inside. A sniffle followed by a soft hiccup drifted towards him, echoing against the walls.

Patton sat on the floor in his overalls, face in his stained gardening gloves as he cried softly. Dirt covered the blue denim, mounds of it scattered around his slender form. 

“Patton?” Logan mumbled softly, moving to rest a hand on his shoulder. “Is everything alright?”   
  
“I… I’m sorry.” Patton managed weakly, furiously wiping away the tears as if they weren’t supposed to be there, smugs streaking with every touch. “I don’t know what came over me.” he fibbed, offering a bright smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

“Patton, I-” Logan began but the man was already on his feet as if nothing had been amiss.

“Don’t worry about it, Kiddo. I’m right as rain! Did you need something? Why don’t I go make us a snack and we can talk about whatever it is?” he offered chipperly, not even giving Logan a chance to speak before brushing past him. 

Logan watched him go, unsure of what was going on or what he should do. Patton wasn’t really one to cry… at least not where someone could find him. His gaze lowered to where the man had been sitting and his frown deepened. 

A bright yellow sunflower lay on its side, roots upturned and strangled by the twisting cords of a hidden weed. The flower had been the last thing in the structure that was living (besides the two men of course). Patton had been working on this place for weeks and just couldn’t seem to get anything to grow properly; except the sunflower… at least that’s what he must have thought. He’d been bragging about the thing for days… and now… 

Weeks passed and where Patton had been working on the greenhouse day after day without relenting, it now stood empty and forgotten, left to suffer just as Patton had. 

……..

[Present]

“Lo, is the blindfold really necessary.” Patton giggled as Logan guided him gently by the shoulders. 

“According to Roman, I would have to reply in the affirmative, my dear Patton,” Logan countered with a grin. He pushed the door to the greenhouse open and ushered the smaller man in. Patton stumbled over the small step but just laughed before continuing forward. 

“How much further?” he bounced excitedly, not even coming up to Logan’s chin with each hop. 

“Just a few more steps.” Logan explained, positioning the smaller man directly in the center of the garden. 

“Now?” Patton asked eagerly.

“One moment.” Logan reassured, stepping back and out of the way. 

“Now?” Patton repeated with a giggle.

“Now.” Logan reassured, his smile turning soft at the sight of the man’s eagerness.

Patton didn’t need to be told twice. He tore away the blind fold in one swift motion, hair turning into a curly mess as he did so, his grin broadening for an instant. In the next… the smile was gone, evaporating as quickly as it came as he took in the sight before him. 

Sun shown through the tilted frames of the ceiling, allowing a small breeze to rustle the plants below. Mirrors lined the corners of the walls to help distribute the rays equally among the greenery no matter the time of day. Bricks lined the small walk ways to keep the soil from spilling over, or the passer-bys to disturb the plants on accident. 

A line of bamboo encompassed the far wall, fronted by a row of microgreens and herbs, raised off the ground by small stepping tables. Vines seemed to climb up the lattice on the right length of the structure growing an assortment of berries and tomatoes, all of which weren’t quite ripe. 

The left side of the Garden housed the majority of the vegetables Logan had worked hard to grow: Ginseng, spinach, cucumbers, peppers, etc. Each small plot was neatly organized with small strings labeling each row, a nametag at the end. 

In the center of the structure, running the full length of the patch were the most beautiful flowers Patton had ever seen: Geraniums, Impatiens, Petunias, Salvias, Caladiums, Chrysanthemums and directly in the center, roped off from the others, stood a large Sunflower in full bloom. 

Patton turned to take in every inch of the completely reformed garden, a hand lifting to cover his mouth, tears threatening to fall. It was all so… so… breathtaking. 

Logan was at his side in an instant, worry obvious on his face. 

“It wasn’t what you envisioned. I shouldn’t have assumed. I apologize if-” Logan began to ramble, misinterpreting Patton’s reaction.

“How long have you been working on this?” Patton interrupted, gaze finally meeting his. 

“I assure you, it has only been a few months. If you don’t like it I can-”

“Don’t you dare!” Patton warned before suddenly wrapping his arms around the disorientated man and hugging him tightly enough to cause a surprising amount of discomfort. “I love it.” he whispered against Logan’s chest. “Thank you.” 

Logan hesitated, not accustomed to such affectionate contact. “You’re quite welcome, Patton.” he mumbled in response, returning the embrace gently. “I had hoped that with summer approaching, we could work on it together.”

A verbal response never came, but judging from the small hiccup and the incoherent sob Patton seemed to like the idea. Eventually, the overly emotional man nodded, still refusing to let go of the deathgrip he called a hug.

La Fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys so much for reading! 
> 
> I hope to make the previous chapter (The Cat and The Raccoon) into its own fic 'Procyon'. So, please stay tuned for that.


	10. Manners And A Muzzle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February Prompts are here!
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190749053762/manners-and-a-muzzle-my-dearest-procyon-part-2
> 
> Today's prompt: Manners/Muzzle
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety... Kinda
> 
> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Cat and The Raccoon/Manners And A Muzzle has been renamed My Dearest Procyon and has its own fic!
> 
> If you would like to read My Dearest Procyon without the other February Prompts you can find it here: 
> 
> Thank you so much!!!

“I still don’t understand,” Roman whined as he stumbled after the lanky wizard. Honestly, he shouldn’t be going along with this at all. He should be at home, in his cozy four poster bed, under a giant mound of blankets, not picking twigs out of his ruined locks, and no doubt catching fleas from the mongrel in his arms. However, the situation being as it was, he wasn’t quite sure which way home was… or if it was even still standing. 

“Perhaps if I explain it again?” Logan offered, ducking under a low hanging branch before holding it up politely for the other man. He may be a witch but Roman had to give him props for his manners. 

“No, no. Just…” Roman huffed with a shake of his head, “can you just summarize?” 

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Logan nodded. “Virgil and I are young witches. As such, we are required to draw our power from a single source; that source usually being another person. Typically, this other person needs to be a powerful magic user as well, though there are exceptions. Whenever a young witch finds their source, in this case our Lord Noname-”

“Still think that is a horrible name,” Roman grumbled under his breath as Logan continued.

“We are bound to him. Each binding is different. For some, it is nothing more than companionship; a mutual bond with equal gain and loss. For others, it is eternal servitude. In Virgil’s case it is the latter.” Logan explained once more, his frown deepening. 

“And you are bound to this Noname guy too?” Roman added, still trying to follow.

“Yes… and no,” Logan sighed, “It is quite complicated. I was once bound to Noname as well, but he quickly grew tired of me. You see, each witch has their own…” he seemed as if he were searching for the correct word, “Talent.” he supplied. “An area of expertise that they excel at. Virgil is a master of physical manipulation. I-”

“Can read minds!” Roman interjected excitedly. 

“Well, in the most simplistic sense, yes, but I can do far more than that. If I concentrate, I am able to see worlds you have never even attempted to dream of. Places where no man has set foot.” Logan couldn’t help but smile as he explained these visions, his heart beginning to race with elation. “I can see the past and the future, each mingling with one another. I can see stars that are millions of galaxies away, or beasts that crawl far beneath our feet.” 

“Wait…” Roman hummed, brows furrowing in confusion. “What is a galaxy?” The question earned a soft sad huff from the witch who simply shook his head and continued on.

“Never mind. I apologize, I seem to have gotten off topic. Where was I…” he mumbled softly. “Ah, yes: the connection Virgil and I share. Noname wished to use my gift for his own gain. When I refused, punishment ensued. Eventually, after a few years he seemed to have given up hope that I would break. As punishment, he cut off the constant supply of magic I received from him. Unfortunately, once a witch has had a taste of power, they will fade without it.”

“What do you mean, fade?” Roman pressed.

“They will die, Your Majesty. Quite quickly, at that,” Logan provided.

“Oh…. So… What happened then?”

“As I tried to explain before-” Logan offered.

“Not in English,” Roman grumbled under his breath, though if the witch noticed, he gave no indication. 

“Virgil, who had been apprenticing with Noname’s brethren, had found me. Naturally, I attempted to latch onto him as a source. He was not too thrilled at the idea, but slowly came around. You see, he was as eager as I was to get away from our bindings, so eventually he agreed. However, the new bond had unfortunate, and unforeseen, consequences. Virgil’s bond with Lord Noname weakened down to a trickle, which meant that there was not enough magical energy to keep both of our human forms alive and well.” The witch averted his gaze in shame as they continued on. “If I had known…” he paused before shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. Knowing that we would both perish if we stayed too long in our human forms, I cursed Virgil to take the appearance of the animal that most resembles his personality while I remained human.” 

“So… he has the personality of a… badger?” Roman asked arching a brow as he lifted the creature in his arms high enough to examine. 

“It is a Procyon Raccoon,” Logan corrected with a huff. 

“Whatever,” The Prince shrugged. “That still doesn’t explain the whole cat thing.” 

“It would be cruel to curse someone that had just saved my life in such a way,” Logan pointed out, “So, I cursed myself as well. Only one of us may be human at any given time, lest we both die.”

“That sounds like a pretty rough existence,” Roman admitted, hugging the still snoring Virgil to his chest. 

“I will admit it is not easy,” Logan confessed. “It is also the reason we are here. We must find new sources if we are to return to the natural order of things.” 

“And you think you can find them here? Why?” Roman asked curiously. 

“Because I have seen it,” Logan answered vaguely. “My visions are cryptic, but they are usually correct. We will both find a new source for our powers here in these woods. I just… need time to figure out what that-”

A roar echoed through the trees, sending droves of birds startling into the air and the still shirtless witch hunching low in the brush. Roman followed a moment later, unsure of what else to do. 

“What the hell was mmph!” he began to snap, just to have Logan’s hand clamp over his mouth. These two witches may be telling the truth about saving him, but they sure didn’t have any concept of respect. 

“Sssh! We’re close.” Logan whispered softly, removing his hand slowly. 

“Close to what?” Roman hissed back. 

“Come on,” Logan urged, inching towards the large vine covered rock face a good ten meters out.

“Listen,” Roman began to complain as he followed the witch, “I get that you’re on a whole quest thing, but I have a entire kingdom I have to worry ab-”

“Roman, you really need to be quiet.” Logan interrupted.

“Don’t tell me to be quiet you no good, sorr- AH!” Roman snapped, dropping the raccoon in his hands with a loud cry. “It bit me!” 

Virgil plopped on the ground, scrambling to his feet in a hurry. He turned a vicious eye onto the prince and hissed mercilessly at him, saliva dripping from his jowls. Roman reared back in sudden terror of the small monster before him, holding his injured hand to his chest. 

“Virgil,” Logan called softly. He bent low enough to place an upturned hand on the ground, cloak falling open to reveal his still bare chest. The raccoon glanced briefly at his partner, hackles still raised, before shooting another hiss at the prince. He then promptly scampered over to the tall man, using his arm as a ramp to clammer into the backpack.

“I asked him to carry you,” Logan clarified. A small hiss sounded from the bag as two beady eyes seemed to glow just under the flap of the now bulging leather. 

“That thing needs to be muzzled,” Roman growled as he shot Virgil a glare of his own. 

“Virgil!” Logan snapped in a harsh whisper. There had obviously been some telepathic exchange between the two men that Roman obviously wasn’t privy to. “Manners!” 

“What did he say?” Roman pressed, his curiosity overpowering his fear as he moved closer. 

“Nothing that warrants repea-.” Logan started to sigh before another roar interrupted him. 

For a moment, the grey and black fur of Virgil’s snout appeared over Logan’s shoulder, whiskers twitching as he sniffed the air. His small claws fisted against the hood of the cloak wrapped around Logan’s shoulders, giving a snarling growl in response to the monstrous cry.

The sound was not the only thing that pulled their attention this time. Smoke began to billow farther down the cliff face where a large string of fire burst from a cave mouth, torching everything within a stone’s throw from the entrance. In the next moment, Virgil was gone, as quickly as he had appeared. He was back in his bag to hide, vastly aware of his suddenly meager stature. 

Roman’s heart raced, his fear of the bitey miniscule monster that was now nestled against Logan’s back all but forgotten. He had something much larger to worry about now… and apparently it knew that they were there.

“A DRAGON?! REALLY?!” Roman cried.

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Cat and The Raccoon/Manners And A Muzzle has been renamed My Dearest Procyon and has its own fic!
> 
> If you would like to read My Dearest Procyon without the other February Prompts you can find it here: 
> 
> Thank you so much!!!


	11. My Dearest Procyon CH3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys make a startling discovery as a new character approaches...
> 
> February Prompts are here!
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190767012457/my-dearest-procyon-part-3
> 
> Today's prompt: Nails/Nuzzle
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety... Kinda along with Logicality... Kinda...
> 
> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here. 
> 
> Don't worry, not all will be focused around the magical!Au! Tomorrow we will see Deceit try and overcome some very interesting issues!!! See you then!!!

“First I have to run from my own home,” Roman cried, “get stabbed and chased into the woods, kidnapped by a couple of witches-”

“Not a kidnapping,” Logan corrected.

“I was bound and gagged!” The Prince scoffed.

“Falsehood, there was no actual gag.”

“Whatever,” Roman spat, tossing up his hands in exasperation, “my point is that I have to go through all of that and you expect me, _me_ , to fight a dragon?!”

“Hardly,” Logan snorted. “You and Virgil will remain here while I go in and confront the creature.” 

Roman paused in surprise at the sheer audacity of the statement. The fact that this lanky man thought he could order him about was one thing, but the idea that he would confront a _dragon_ alone was outrageous! Sure he had magic, but if Roman understood him correctly, there wasn’t much of it left? 

“Oh no you don’t!” The Prince scoffed. “You are _not_ going in there alone!” 

The anxious raccoon that had buried itself among the supplies strapped to Logan’s bag seemed to perk up at the argument, snout appearing just under the leather flap. Virgil’s whiskers twitched slightly as he began to chitter. 

“Don’t _you_ start! And be still, you know how I am with you back there,” Logan snapped in response. “You’re the one that exhausted our magic and got us in this mess. I voted to leave him.” 

Roman tensed at the words, realizing that the two must be conversing about him. Had Logan really voted to leave Roman? At which point? When he was bleeding out, alone and freezing, or after he had awakened in the clearing? Either way, that was pretty cold hearted. Regardless of Logan’s vote, he _had_ ended up going along with Virgil’s insistence on helping Roman as far as he was aware.

“I say, we go in fighting!” Roman offered valiantly. He lifted a fist in the air for emphasis. “We three… Well… Two and a half,” he corrected, earning another hiss from the beast in the pack, “go in there and fight the monster tooth and nail!” 

“You were just complaining about the thought of fighting the beast at all and now you want all three of us to?” Logan pointed out quizatively. 

"Forgive me, Roman," Logan sighed, adjusting the backpack carefully, "but I feel as if antagonizing the creature is perhaps not the best course of action."

"But it's a _dragon_!" Roman retorted in annoyance, motioning vaguely towards the cave.

"Precisely! I am not sure if you are aware, but dragons breathe fire! Seething fire!" He lifted his hands to either side of his face, wiggling his fingers to give the prince a proper visual.

"What are you doing?" The prince huffed.

"Flames... Flames on the side of my face... see- seething fire." Logan explained calmly before giving up exasperated. He moved to slide the pack off his shoulder, shifting away from it as he did. He held it out, carefully, for the prince to take. 

“I will go alone. Dragons are supposed to be intelligent creatures who value the exchanging of goods. I have plenty of information to offer it; hopefully that will be enough,” Logan explained. 

Roman was hesitant to accept the pack, eyeing the glowing eyes of the beast inside, barely visible beneath the opening. Still, he took hold of the strap, keeping it a safe distance away with an extended arm. 

“I still don’t understand why we have to approach the dragon at all.” It really didn’t make any sense to him. 

“I told you,” the witch huffed. “Virgil and I can not live off of the ciphoned magic we are pulling from Lord Noname. Dragons are some of the most magical beasts in existence. It is only logical that if we can bond with it, there will be more than enough magic to sustain us,” he explained. 

“Yeah… Or, and here is a crazy thought,” Roman countered. “You could be eaten!” Logan did his best not to roll his eyes at the man’s overdramatic nature.

“I appreciate your concern Roman," Logan pulled the cloak tighter around his shoulders, flinching slightly as he did so. “Truly, I do, but I owe Virgil a great deal. I wasn’t quite sure what I would find when we arrived here, but I have no doubt now. This dragon is the answer to our dilemma. I can not risk Virgil’s wellbeing. I owe him too much.” 

The touching speech seemed to agitate the nocturnal beast still in the sack. Numerous growls and a few scratching noises seemed to emanate from the backpack as Virgil threw a small tantrum. 

“That is all well and good, Virgil,” Logan retorted flatly, obviously not amused by whatever the smaller mammal had to say. “However, you are currently a raccoon. I am not quite sure you have really considered how much good you could do in that state.” The retort was certainly apathetic and brash, but it seemed to drive his point across and Virgil quieted. 

“Do you really think this will work?” Roman asked after a long moment of silence, far more worried than he should be over someone he had only met that morning.

Logan’s lips pursed into a small line as he considered it. “I am afraid I don’t have an answer to that particular question,” he admitted softly. “It is possible that it will take quite some time. Perhaps it would be best if you set up camp?” 

“Uh… Sure, yeah. I could do that,” Roman nodded, setting Virgil down carefully. 

The bag shifted with the Procyon’s movements, before falling to the side and depositing the beast onto the brush covered ground. He took a moment to stretch before seeming to pointedly turn his back to the other witch. It was almost as if Virgil was sulking. Roman wasn’t even quite sure if raccoons _could_ sulk. 

“Good. Virgil is nocturnal, which means he could use some sleep, and I prefer not to carry a sleeping Procyon into a dragon’s lair,” Logan admitted. 

A chittering… grumble? came from the raccoon. 

“You’re seriously going in there?” Roman clarified once more. Logan, however, didn’t answer. He had said his piece, there was no point in answering repetitive questions. Instead, he turned on his heels. 

“Just keep him safe,” Logan instructed, heading for the blackened and charred mouth of the cave still a good distance away. 

………..

Logan was careful as he approached, using a small bit of magic to douse the embers that still burned here and there. It certainly wouldn’t do to allow the entire forest to burn just because a single creature decided it was upset. 

He paused at the mouth, taking in the massive size of the rock formation. The sediment around the edges of the cave’s entrance was scoured and gouged as if something had scrapped against it. The floor was worn smooth by constant friction.

Logan’s cloak swirled around his feet as if the wind was being pushed and then pulled slowly, like slow even breaths. All of this was certainly an indication of the creatures' massive size. Logan took a deep inhalation to try and calm himself, ignoring the way the lingering smoke scratched at his throat. He steeled himself before heading inside.

Heat seemed to radiate from the walls as Logan moved further into the rock face, the smell similar to heated metal. The sun’s rays disappeared fairly quickly, leaving him in darkness. Not for the first time, he was grateful for his feline gaze that allowed him to make out his surroundings as he continued on. 

The ceiling seemed to rise quickly after the first few meters. He wasn’t quite sure if that was a natural occurrence or if the beast had carved it out itself. Whichever it was, it allowed plenty of room for the-

“Hiya!” A pleasant voice came, causing Logan to reel about in surprise. A small man, barely up to the witch’s shoulders stood before him, having apparently approached silently in the darkness. “I wasn’t expecting visitors until tomorrow. If I had known you were coming I would have made snacks,” he grinned excitedly up at Logan. 

The lanky man was loath to admit it, but the man before him was perhaps the most adorable creature he had ever laid eyes on. In fact, the mere sight of him had the witch softening his guard. A very bad idea in hindsight...

“I..” Logan was at a loss at how to respond. What was the man even doing there? “I apologize for the intrusion,” he offered, “I was just…” 

“Looking for someone, kiddo?” The pleasant man asked, bouncing on his heels. His tiny voice echoed against the walls loudly in such a quiet setting. If the dragon hadn’t already known that they were there it certainly would now. 

“I suppose so?” Logan offered, utterly confused. “Forgive me for asking this, but are you alright?” 

“Of course!” The man chirped, his grin broadening even more. “Right as rain! Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked, his innocent eyes seeming to peer into Logan, making him feel almost indecent. 

“Well…” the witch began, still feeling a bit uncomfortable by it all. “You are standing in the approximate center of a mythical creature’s lair. In the dark. Alone. Unconcerned with the volume of your voice,” he pointed out. He was fairly certain he was losing his mind. Maybe this man was just a figment of his imagination.

“Oh,” the man giggled, obviously amused, “this isn’t anywhere near the center and it’s not a lair, silly goose,” he corrected, giving Logan a gentle pat on the shoulder, “it’s more like a vacation home.” 

Logan’s brows furrowed at the touch. Was this man one of the dragon’s cohorts? A slave perhaps? Follower? Whatever he was, Logan didn’t like this at all. 

“As for the dark, I don’t mind it.” the man continued, “I assumed with those eyes of yours it was suitable for you as well. They are very pretty by the way, Logan,” he complimented, making Logan’s skin warm with a heavy flush. 

The witch’s embarrassment was gone in an instant. Had he told the man his name? He was fairly certain he had not. So, how did he know it? Logan would have felt it if the man had attempted to read his mind. There had been no casting within the span of their interaction as far as he was aware. Did that mean that he was like Logan? Was there another clairvoyant? His kind was so rare. The possibility that he might have found another like him had his heart racing. 

“Don’t look so shocked, kiddo,” the man chuckled once more, “I’ve been expecting you, though I was told that you wouldn’t be here until tomorrow evening. So, I’m afraid I haven’t started on the cookies yet.”

“Cookies?” Logan breathed. He felt as if his brain was starting to melt. None of this made sense. Someone had ‘told’ the man he was coming. That would explain knowing his name. Was it the dragon? There wasn’t a lot of lore on the beasts, perhaps they could see snippets of the future as well.

“Yes! I was going to make plenty for your friends as well! The prince and the badger,” 

“Procyon raccoon,” the witch corrected. 

“Of course, of course,” the mystery man giggled. “Maybe you can invite them in! I can scrounge up plenty of food for both of them! I have tea and some pies. I bake when I’m bored. They’re a little burnt but-”

“My apologizes,” Logan interrupted, shaking his head, “I’m afraid I’m having a hard time comprehending everything. Wh-who exactly are you?” 

“Oh! Silly ol’ me!” He giggled in response, hands going to his hips. “My name is Patton! I’m just so gosh darn excited to have visitors I forgot my manners.” 

“Well… Patton,” Logan offered, testing the name on his tongue and trying not to let the warmth that seemed to tighten his chest at the man’s adorable mannerisms distracted him, “I’m afraid I don’t have time for snacks and chitchat. I-”

“Have a dragon to find?” Patton asked, seeming a bit disappointed, smile fading. He sighed softly, glancing away, “Why do you need it so much anyways? Do you want it to heal you? Because, if that is the case I don’t think it can… not in the way you want. Your wounds are not something magic can fix.”

“How did you-” Logan began but stopped himself. Something was very, very wrong here. Had Patton been able to see through his glamor? Had someone told him of Logan’s condition? Who could have possibly known outside of Virgil? “No, I didn’t come here to ask about my injuries.” The words had Patton’s gaze narrowing suspiciously. 

“Well, no one comes here without wanting something, big guy,” he pointed out, his smile still missing as he turned away. 

Logan didn’t know what else to do but to follow him, far too curious to leave now. Whomever, or whatever, this man was, he wasn’t what he seemed. Logan needed answers, and he couldn’t afford to leave without them. 

Patton moved along the wall of the massive cavern before turning down a small tunnel. 

“If you’ve come to slay the dragon, I’m afraid you won’t have any luck, kiddo,” he commented as they walked. 

“Slay?!” Logan baulked in surprise and distress. “Never! Dragons are the wisest and most intelligent creatures known to have ever existed. Slaying such a creature should be a crime punishable by atrocities worse than death,” Logan practically snapped. Luckily the man didn’t seem offended in the least. If anything he seemed amused; another small smile turning up the corner of his soft thin lips. 

“Well, color me pink. I am glad you think so!” Patton chuckled as they entered a smaller cavern that seemed to be furnished fairly nicely. Large wooden chairs sat around a small table, covered with an embroidered cloth., Next to a large bookcase practically overflowing with literature was a bench positioned against the wall with small throws and pillows. A bed sat in the far corner, the bedding meticulously positioned. 

Patton moved into the room, stepping up to the small table and collecting the small lamp there. 

“I would look away for a moment, unless you want those purr-fect eyes of yours to be blinded,” he snorted, obviously meaning to illuminate the room. Logan complied, in spite of the pun (which he would never admit was precious), closing his eyes until the smaller man announced that it was alright to look.

It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting of the room, colors becoming prominent with the new source. His slitted gaze shot to his host, far too curious to know what those soft full cheeks and curly locks looked like in the light of the flame. 

The man was even more stunning than Logan had expected. The small flame caused his lashes to cast long shadows over his flushed cheeks as he moved to cover the lamp and set it down. His pink lips appeared to be swollen as if he had been worrying them between his teeth. His light curls bounced with every step he took towards one of the chairs. His hands were petite and almost delicate as he pulled the knitted blanket from the seat and wrapped it around his thin shoulders, nuzzling deep into the fabric before sinking down onto the polished wood of the chair. 

“So, what do you want with the dragon then?” Patton asked expectantly. 

It took a moment for Logan to pull himself out of his stupor, far too engrossed in the celestial being before him. “I-” he began, reaching out towards the man mentally as he always did when trying to determine someone else’s intentions. 

Pain shot through his temple, pain like he had never experienced even during his time in the cells beneath Noname’s estate. He cried out doubling over in agony, tears starting to run down his reddened checks. Searing light seemed to wash through every crevice of his being, burning everything in its path. 

When the pain finally seemed to subside, the cool stone floor pressed against his overheated chest was a welcomed feeling. His cheek rested on something soft, a small throw pillow, that elevated above the floor. Slowly, the realization of what happened struck him and he tensed. 

“Try and relax, Kiddo,” Patton’s soothing voice came. Logan jerked his head to the side to catch a glimpse of the small man sitting cross legged on the floor next to him, mixing something in a small bowl. “I’m going to put this on your back now. Is that okay?” 

His back?! No, no, no, no. That was not happening! Everything was finally making sense and he didn’t like where this was going. Why did he want to coat his back in whatever was in the bowl anyway? Could it be something meant to cause more pain? 

No, if this creature wanted to hurt him he would have done it by now. Perhaps, he was genuinely trying to help. If Logan was right about Patton’s true nature, then this was an opportunity he couldn’t afford to miss. The witch gave a small nod of his head, the movement causing more pain to wash through him, although nowhere near as bad as it had been moments before. 

Patton shifted a bit closer and the tension that riddled Logan’s body intensified. He didn’t even allow Virgil to touch the sensitive area. His partner was the only one that had seen him without the glamour he kept in place to hide his eternal wounds, and he prefered to keep it that way.

Logan was very careful with his clothing, his perfect posture, the way he draped his pack off of one shoulder. It was also the reason he couldn’t bear to wear a shirt or tunic. The softest caress of his back made him want to weep. 

“This might sting a bit, but it will help,” Patton whispered softly, remorse lining his voice. Logan didn’t respond beyond the hissing intake of breath as the smaller man applied the salve to what only appeared to be a perfectly healthy span of skin. “Whoever did this to you....” Patton began, voice cracking slightly as if moved to tears by whatever it was he was seeing. “You must be in such horrible pain.” 

“It is nothing I have not earned,” Logan mumbled into the pillow.

“That is a bunch of codswallop!” Patton snapped in annoyance, “I don’t want to hear any of it. You really shouldn’t lie to yourself in such a manner, Logan. It is unbecoming of a gentleman like you.”

Logan’s frown deepened at the words, remaining as still as he could while Patton continued to apply the herbs that seemed to disappear beneath his glamour. 

“You mean just like the falsehoods you fed me about the dragon?” he accused, making Patton pause in his administration.

It took a moment for the adorable man to collect himself, his own frown deepening as he went back to work. “You really shouldn’t try to read people’s minds without their consent,” he mumbled softly, “It is very rude.” 

“And dangerous, apparently,” Logan added, before turning to look over his shoulder at the other’s small frame. It was no wonder he found him so beautiful.The creature no doubt took on whatever form would be most suitable to whomever he appeared to. 

“So, I am right. You’re…” he trailed off, knowing how terrified he must sound to the powerful being who had him like putty in his hands.

“The dragon you’ve been searching for? Yes,” Patton nodded somberly, setting the bowl aside and moving to stand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here. 
> 
> Don't worry, not all will be focused around the magical!Au! Tomorrow we will see Deceit try and overcome some very interesting issues!!! See you then!!!


	12. Accidents and Abandonment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February Prompts are here!
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: 
> 
> Today's prompt: Accident/Abandonment

“So, why don’t you tell me about it?” Emile offered softly. His usual bright smile had turned a bit more cautious with the question. Dee could be a bit bitey when pressed on certain issues.

“What’s there to tell?” Dee scoffed, wrapping his arms around his chest.

“Well, we could start with whether or not it was an accident.” Dr. Picani suggested, moving to stand. 

“It was!” Dee snapped in offense. His gaze followed the therapist across the room, watching him start to dig through a large pile of toys and stuffed animals. He knew what was coming next and tried not to get excited. He was almost an adult after all. There was no reason for it. 

“That  _ is _ what the report said Picani agreed with a nod, brows furrowed in determination as he dug deeper looking for- Ah! There she was! His hands wrapped around the large soft fabric of the beast he was looking for. 

Dee eyed Emile as he produced an eight foot weighted and stuffed anaconda from the pile and moved back towards his chair. He sat the stuffed animal on the table between the two of them, just within reach of his patient. He knew that Dee had far too much self pride to take the beast if he had offered it, but had found that leaving it where it was easily accessible tended to soften his resolve. 

“You don’t have to pull that blasted thing out every time I’m here. It's a child’s toy.” Dee scoffed, bringing his feet up to rest beneath him almost defensively. 

“Of course, Dee. My apologies.” Emile offered pleasantly, unable to keep from giving a small knowing smile. 

“And of course that is what the report said,” Dee continued with some agitation, “It is the truth.”

“I never claimed otherwise, Dee,” the doctor pointed out. “Why don’t you walk me through what happened?”

“Ugh, fine.” Dee eyed the stitched yellow scales on the table, doing his best to refrain from reaching for it. “I ran into Virgil and the others on my way to school. We got in an argument and then Roman got on his bike to leave and he fell. I had nothing to do with it.” 

“Perhaps,” Emile offered after a moment, earning a glare from the teenager. He was usually far more gentle with his administration, but Dee tended to react better with vague confrontation. It was actually something that Dr. Picani found quite interesting. 

“There’s no ‘perhaps’ about it. That’s what happened Dee snapped defensively, scooping up the weighted snake and wrapping it around his shoulders. 

“Maybe we should backtrack a bit,” Picani suggested, flipping through the notes he had set aside. “Why don’t you tell me about Virgil?” 

A snort came from the teenager as he rolled his eyes, burying himself deeper into the snake’s soft scales. “What’s there to tell?” he asked flatly. 

“From what I understand, up until recently, you two were inseparable,” the doctor pointed out. 

“Do you have a point?”

“Well, spending so much time together for so long must make for a very strong bond Emile offered.

“Get to the point, doc. Dee scoffed, holding the snake tighter around himself.

“Well, he seems to be spending most of his time with his new friends now. That must not feel very good. Perhaps you feel a bit abandoned?” 

“I’m fine,” Dee spat a bit too quickly.

“Dee… I can not help you if you are not honest, especially to yourself,” Picani explained gently. They had touched on the subject of self-honesty multiple times and it was certainly an issue Dee continued to struggle with. 

For a moment the teenager was silent, still glaring at his therapist, hand smoothing the tuff of fabric upon the snake’s head. He had decided weeks ago that he would name her Abigail, though he couldn’t tell Picani that or he would know how attached to the thing he was. That is, if he didn’t know already. 

“Fine,” he huffed softly, soothed by the charming snake around him. “So, I feel a bit abandoned. Sue me, I’m only human.” 

“Yes, yes you are. You are allowed to feel things Dee. It is only natural Emile reminded before jotting something down and moving on. “So, tell me what really happened.”

The instruction had the younger man pausing, obviously debating with himself as he considered his next course of action. Lying was his go-to coping mechanism, but Picani was a pro at seeing through it. He supposed that he was stubborn enough to worm the truth out of him eventually as well. Which meant he might as well offer it up now or be stuck in this room far longer than he’d like to be.

“I was heading up to the school to meet up with Ree,” Dee began, voice muffled as he pressed his face more firmly into the snake’s belly. “I saw Virgil and went to talk to him but he ignored me. Ever since he got that perfect princely boyfriend of his, Ree and I are nothing to him,” he growled, eyes beginning to sting with the threat of tears. “It’s not fair! We grew up together! We did everything together! And now he’s abandoned us! I decided to confront him about what he did when Mr. Perfect stepped between us and started giving one of his sickening sweet kumbaya speeches… I couldn’t stand it… So I punched him between his perfect eyes.”

“And what did you feel afterwards?” Emile asked.

Dee hesitated to answer, shame filling him to the point that all he wanted to do was cry. “I… saw the way Virgil looked at me… It was like he hated me… and… I hated me too,” he managed weakly. 

Picani nodded slowly at that. He understood that feeling very well. “Sometimes, we do things that aren’t exactly what we consider good or right, though we don’t know it in the moment, and that’s okay! It’s okay to be sad sometimes or feel remorseful. As long as we know that we won’t always feel that way,” he offered, a sad smile on his lips. “Punching Roman probably wasn’t the best idea, but you know that now and that’s good.” 

“So…” Dee whispered, peering over the yellow scales almost pleadingly. “I’m not a monster?” The question made Emile give a small sad chuckle. 

“No, dear. There is no monster to be found. You’re just a guy with a lot of emotions and that’s perfectly normal. The fact that you aren’t quite sure what to do with those emotions is okay too. If everyone did, then I would be out of job,” he teased with a chuckle. “Everything you feel is valid, kiddo. Anyone who says otherwise just doesn’t know what they’re talking about.”

“Yeah?” Dee asked, perking up a bit. 

“Yeah.” Emile nodded before pausing. “But you still owe Roman and Virgil an apology.”

“Ugh!” Dee whined as if he were in agony at the idea.

La Fin


	13. My Dearest Procyon CH 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prince and his Procyon share a few cute moments. Meanwhile, Logan makes a very disturbing discovery.
> 
> February Prompts are here!
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190817368862/eat-your-heart-out
> 
> Today's prompt: Venom/Vacant
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety... Kinda along with Logicality... Kinda...
> 
> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here.
> 
> Don't worry, not all will be focused around the magical!Au! Tomorrow we will see Deceit try and overcome some very interesting issues!!! See you then!!!

Roman paced anxiously, leaves crunching against his boots. Logan had been in the cave for quite some time now and the prince wasn’t quite sure if he was alive. If he was, perhaps Roman should go after him?

Virgil didn’t seem bothered by Logan’s absence in the least. If Logan was in trouble, he would undoubtedly reach out for one of them, or switch to his other form. If Logan switched, then Virgil would be capable of returning to his human state. This was also the case if Logan perished. So, until he could turn, or Logan returned, there was no point in wasting as much energy as Roman seemed to be. 

It wasn’t as if Virgil was unconcerned. No, his best friend just strode unarmed and alone in a _Dragon’s Lair!_ However, Virgil trusted Logan’s judgement and had learned long ago not to doubt him. For now, all they could do was wait and set up camp as he had asked. 

“How can you be so calm!” Roman’s whiney voice came, making the Procyon want to roll its eyes. “He’s in there, all alone, probably being roasted alive and you’re… what? Adding to your stick collection?” 

The raccoon seemed to give the prince an even glance, stick in question still between his teeth. The guy was over dramatic, for sure, and far too loud, but he still felt the prince was important on the venture forward. The issue was that he didn’t know how or why. 

“Don’t look at me like that! You’re the one that let him walk in there! I’m just your captive,” the prince huffed, tossing up his hands flamboyantly as he turned to the raccoon. “What would you have me do?!”

Virgil continued to stare at him pointedly, unamused by his constant chattering. The furry animal was fairly certain that if Roman ever came to be cursed as they had been, he would no doubt be turned into something similar to a squirrel or a chipmunk. At least then he wouldn’t be quite as annoying. 

Virgil made sure to keep the eye contact as he continued on his path, waddling towards the small clearing of leaves he had made and dropping his stick onto the small pile he had collected already. 

It was starting to get a bit late and with each passing hour the temperature was dropping. Perhaps Virgil was far too attuned to this fact due to his beastly state; or perhaps it was that he had lived most of his life sleeping on the streets. Either way, he didn’t expect someone as pampered and pompous as the man before him to understand just yet. 

“Why am I even still here?!” Roman’s dramatic display continued. “I could have made a break for it ages ago!” Virgil huffed and moved to continue collecting sticks for his fire. “I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard to find my way back. Surely, considering the sun rises in the east then I can find north and be safe and warm back-”

Virgil gave a discreet sideways glance as the prince trailed off, the sound of his heavy footfalls silencing as the realization hit him. His little mammalian heart could have broken for him in that moment if he had allowed it. Virgil picked up another couple of sticks in his jaws as reality began to sink in. 

Roman was no doubt remembering the horrific deeds of the night before. The countless lives lost, the burning homes, his family… The poor guy was on his own now. Virgil was curious if he was aware of that, not that he would, or could, ask him as things were. 

He dropped the last of the twigs onto the pile and glanced up. The look of pure anguish on the prince’s face was devastating. Roman’s brows furrowed slightly upwards as he stared into the distances, eyes vacant. Virgil was far too familiar with that look, with that feeling. He would have to be careful with the prince. He would have to keep an eye on the guy to make sure he didn’t spiral too hard. 

The raccoon seemed to sigh as he moved back to the discarded pack and began to di. His tiny hands pushed around this or that as he searched for what he needed. The worn leather tilted sideways as Virgil was forced onto his hind legs for better leverage the deeper he went. 

Finally, he produced a small dark stone bound with a dark cord, along with a small metal tool. He held it up to grip between his sharp jaws before disregarding the bag completely. 

In the next instance, he was bounding towards Roman. He didn’t bother to hesitate before climbing the prince like a tree, scurrying up his stained clothing. The weight of the large Procyon had Roman stumbling to keep his balance, the feel of its paws on his person making him give an uncomfortable squeak of surprise.

“Warn a man!” he snapped a bit breathless, snapping out of the living nightmares swirling in his head. “I’m not accustomed to badgers having their way with me,” he paused as if considering it that was technically the truth. He was fairly certain that a certain badger-like individual from the neighboring kingdom didn’t count. “At least for the most part,” he clarified.

Virgil gave a small growl in response, but let the insult slide. He wasn’t quite sure if the prince was being facetious or if he truly were sheltered enough or stupid enough not to know the difference between a badger and a raccoon. Regardless, Virgil shifted so that his weight was mostly on the man’s shoulder before taking the parcel from his mouth and offering it out. 

The prince reached up to take the parcel from Virgil’s paw and examined it carefully before giving a sigh. 

“Even as a beast, you’re bossy,” he mumbled under his breath as Virgil jumped down. Roman really didn’t mind, of course. In all honesty, he was glad for the distraction as he moved to the mound of sticks and untied the bundle. 

It took a few strikes of the flint for the kindling beneath the wood to begin to crackle and smoke. He wasn’t the most skilled at building fires considering he hadn’t needed to light one for some years now. Everything had always been done for him, minus his interests. Perhaps, he _was_ as useless as he felt. 

He shifted from where he knelt next to the wood, moving back a decent amount before crossing his legs beneath him and staring into the flames that were beginning to engulf the pile. The warmth of the dancing lights had his heart sinking. How many of his people had died? Why didn’t he stay and fight? Why did he allow himself to be chased from the only place he had ever called home? What was he to do now? Staying with Logan and Virgil, surely wouldn’t help his cause. Perhaps if he-

A chittering nudge against his side had him pulling from his spiraling thoughts as Virgil’s furry forehead pressed against him once more. He sat back on his plump rear, pulling the corner of what appeared to be another cloak from his mouth and offered it out. 

Roman would never admit it, but the image of raccoon Virgil’s little paws trying to wrap around the bulk fabric and offering it out to him as if he were worried that Roman would catch a cold, was perhaps the most adorable thing he had ever seen. He couldn’t help but give a small grateful smile as he accepted the blanket, wrapping it around himself. 

A yawn escaped him, despite his efforts to trap it with the back of his hand. Virgil might be nocturnal, but Roman still hadn’t gotten much sleep with everything that had happened either. 

His gaze shifted towards the creature next to him. Virgil had curled into a ball, head resting on his paws as his eyes slid closed. The prince supposed he wasn’t that bad, all in all. A bit feisty maybe, but Roman had always enjoyed that quality in others. 

Roman didn’t really hesitate before shifting to pick the fur ball up with both hands. Startled and certainly not use to being man-handled, Virgil went into a clawing and hissing fit. His little arms and legs began to flail as Roman gentle moved him, dropping him into his lap. 

Virgil tensed as his feet landed, hackles still raised, realization of what exactly was happening slowly sank in. Roman deserved to have his eyes clawed for treating him in such a manner. Still, the man was radiating heat… and it _was_ getting cold… 

Virgil shot him a heated glare, straining his neck to peer up at him tiredly, but complied. He shifted, making sure to knead at the prince’s thighs and causing him to give a sharp intake of breath at the pain it caused. With a huff, and before Roman could shoo him away, Virgil plopped down, curling into the dip of his legs. The raccoon gave another small content chirp before allowing his eyes to close.

……..

“If your visions brought you here, then you know if I’m going to help you or not,” Patton pointed out as he handed a small mug of tea to the lanky man currently sitting cross legged on his floor, still gloriously shirtless. He tried not to stare.

“Thank you,” Logan mumbled, accepting the offering. “Unfortunately, that is not the case. I had believed that the lapse in my visions was due to…” He paused, measuring how much he should say, “Due to another complication of my own making. However, now that I have met you, I believe it is something else entirely.”

“Oh?” Patton asked, smiling fondly as he picked up his own mug. 

“It seems that your existence within magic is so strong that it is blinding. I could not, and can not, see anything past my entrance into the cave,” Logan continued, taking a small sip of the surprisingly soothing liquid. “If you _are_ indeed the cause, then I can only assume that you will agree to join us in our journey.” 

“Well, gosh Kiddo, that does make sense,” Patton admitted, setting his own mug aside, “or it is possible that you can’t see past the cave because you don’t leave.” 

The words had Logan tensing. He had thought of that as well, but hearing it from such a powerful being was terrifying; the fact that the words were spoken with such sweet fondness was also a bit dispiriting. 

“You’re just so darn cute! I just want to bundle you up and keep you forever!” Patton chirped excitedly. 

Logan wasn’t quite sure what to make of the creature before him. He had never had a functioning understanding of social interaction, which was why he remained in his cat form most of the time. Yet, he was at more of a loss than usual with this man. 

“I appreciate the compliment, Patton,” Logan offered a bit hesitant, not sure if that was the correct response, “but I’m afraid I cannot allow that. You see, while, in extension, I am here for my own gain, there is someone else that needs this more.” 

Patton’s smile faded at the words but he didn’t seem offended. No, if anything the creature seemed concerned as he studied the witch. 

“You mean, the man you’re siphoning off of?” he asked blatantly, causing Logan’s tension to increase. 

“How did you-” he cut himself off with a shake of his head. It didn’t matter. Dragons were powerful creatures whose abilities were no doubt far beyond what he currently comprehended. While his curiosity was a powerful force to be reckoned with, now was not the time. 

“Yes,” the witch admitted softly, shame filling him, “because of me, an innocent man who has wanted nothing for himself is suffering. I cannot allow this to continue. While I hope that we are able to find a solution that does not end in my death, I have come to terms with the possibility.” 

“Logan,” Patton breathed softly, a sadness in his eyes that Logan hadn’t expected to see. “What did you expect when you came here?” he asked softly.

“I…” Logan began but hesitated. What _had_ he expected? He was so desperate for a way to save his companion that he wasn’t quite sure. He had blindly followed his visions in the hope that they could lead him to the answers he needed. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “I suppose I was hoping for answers.”

“Well, Kiddo,” Patton replied, smile finally returning, “ _That_ I can help with,” he bounced a bit in his chair, inching his small form to perch on the edge. “I’m good with answers! Granted, they are not always the ones you want. Most people track me down to either try and kill me or bribe me. People are generally selfish and driven by their own material desires. I can’t tell you how happy I am to meet someone as good-hearted as you, Logan.”

Logan could feel his face heating at the compliment. He had never considered himself ‘good’ in any aspect really. He had done such horrible things in the name of logic and progression. How could anyone describe him in such a way, especially someone like Patton?

“Give me your hand,” the dragon instructed, holding out his own palm. Logan hesitated briefly, setting aside his mug before complying. His hands practically dwarfed Patton’s as he used both to clasp Logan’s. If the witch wasn’t aware of just _what_ Patton was, he would no doubt find the fact extremely endearing. 

The smaller man’s grip tightened almost painfully as he closed his eyes, causing Logan to glance up quickly. Patton had allowed his eyes to close, brows furrowing in concentration. His teeth dug into his bottom lip gently, worrying the pink flesh as he started to hum. 

Logan could suddenly feel the warmth radiating from the other man. It was intense, though not unpleasant, as it moved from his fingertips up the witch’s arm and slowly made its way through the rest of his body. 

Suddenly, Logan’s body jerked, causing a small cry to escape him as his soul was practically pulled from it’s vessel and into a world that was far too foreign and yet extremely familiar.

……..

Dark blues and blacks swirled around him, reminding him far too much of the night sky as Logan stepped forward. His gentle foot falls made no sound as he collided with the translucent floor beneath him. 

“What is this place? Where have you taken me?” he asked softly, voice echoing into the nothingness. He wasn’t quite sure how he knew that Patton was there but something just felt right about it. 

“Don’t worry, Kiddo,” the chipper voice came, small specs of lights beginning to appear with every word, “You’re completely safe here.” The lights swirled around him. They appeared to be some sort of star system. Logan knew the patterns. He would often gaze far, far into the future during those dark nights alone in his cell, when the only company he had was the pain of his wounds and the screams of the suffering individuals around him. He would gaze at the future, the people there so obsessed with the stars just as he was. He would watch as they built giant structures that could look upon massive collections of stars that they called galaxies. They were beautifully stunning. Each glimpse Logan managed was so breathtaking that he would forget the world around him. He would forget his own torment and suffering, the pain and poverty of the world around him, and instead commited the images to memory. 

The stars swirled around him, a small loving smile playing on his lips as he reached out for one, causing it to glow brightly. He recognized it. How could he not? 

“Procyon…” he whispered in awe. The star was the brightest object in the constellation that the future human race called Canis Minor. It would be the eighth-brightest star in the night sky when they eventually named it. It had been the first star Logan had ever glimpsed up close through his visions. He had instantly fallen in love. Of course, he could never tell Virgil about any of this. The fact that the star shared a name with the man was far too serendipitous. 

“It is beautiful,” Patton whispered softly next to him, peering around his lean figure and making Logan jump slightly. The witch couldn’t help but give another fond smile towards the star. 

“Yes,” he breathed softly, “it is. The most beautiful thing I had ever seen.” He supposed that was before he had met his first dragon. He tensed when he realized what he had said, flushing deeply at the omission. 

“That’s so sweet Logan! You shouldn’t be ashamed to feel such affection! It’s good to have passions!” Patton chittered excitedly, clapping his hands as he bounced.

“Where are we?” Logan asked again, determined to change the subject as he glanced about. 

“Somewhere between your current existence and the next,” Patton explained, taking his hand. “Come on, this way!” he urged before breaking into a run, dragging the witch along with him. 

Logan tried not to think about how perfectly Patton’s hand fit in his or how easily the touch was given. Most individuals tended to shy away from him once they discovered his nature. Perhaps that was why he wasn’t too keen on physical touch. 

The dark blue and black swirls shifted around them, ever changing, but never fading as they went. 

Patton pulled to a stop so suddenly that Logan stumbled to avoid colliding with the man, his feet sliding across the non-existent floor. 

“Awwww!!” the dragon squealed, letting go of Logan’s hand to applaud happily at the sight before him. 

A tall figure, wrapped in a dark cloak, face hidden beneath the edge, stood before them. Its arms were cradled around the black and white fur of a raccoon sleeping peacefully against its chest. 

“W-who is that?” Logan asked softly, fear beginning to dance along his spine. The feeling was irrational, there was nothing that came off as threatening about the individual as far as he could tell, and yet… his hands were shaking. 

“It’s you, silly,” Patton explained simply, smile still present. “Now, shush… lets see what happens.” 

The Anti-Logan pulled down his hood, revealing his mismatched feline eyes as he turned his head, glancing over his shoulder as another approached. 

“Prince Roman…” Real-Logan breathed in awe as the well dressed man approached the anti-Logan so casually. 

“A prince?!” Patton gasped, “how exciting!” 

Roman and Anti-Logan stood shoulder to shoulder, heads turned to peer at one another for a long moment before the raccoon began to stir. 

The raccoon’s whiskers twitched as he sniffed the air expectantly, gaze turning towards the prince. Roman glanced down, a small smile playing on his features before he offered out a hand to the raccoon. 

The beast sniffed the palm before chomping down on one of the prince’s fingers. Roman didn’t react to the bite as the raccoon began to hiss and scratch at him. 

“Aw! He’s so cute!” Patton cooed softly. 

“He has far too much venom, it is a hassle,” Logan admitted softly, still watching the scene play out. 

After a moment, the raccoon seemed to calm itself and Anti-Logan shifted, holding the beast out to the prince. Roman seemed to hesitate before taking the raccoon with both hands just under its arms. 

As soon as the creature had been passed off, Anti-Logan began to fade into the nothingness that surrounded them, leaving Roman and his new companion on their own.

Slowly, the raccoon’s form began to shift, his meager stature stretching until it formed the dark haired witch Logan had come to care deeply for. Virgil peered at Roman with the same purple-brown eyes as Anti-Logan, his expression affectionate. 

The sense of fear that crept through Logan doubled. If this was an indication that Virgil was to fall in love then he was happy for it, but… but something was wrong… Something was off.

Suddenly, the smaller witch’s hand jerked forward, embedding in Roman’s chest,a smile still present on his features. 

“Oh… Dear…” Patton gasped.

Logan couldn’t even bring himself to make a similar noise of surprise. His eyes were glued to the horrific scene before him, knees threatening to give way.

Roman remained as he was, his soft expression still in place as he lifted a hand to rest on Virigl’s shoulder. 

However, Virgil jerked his hand back, blood splattering between the two of them as he removed a still beating organ from the prince’s chest. He brought it to his mouth taking a large bite of the bloody organ. Roman’s body took a moment to catch up with what had just happened. Then the prince collapsed before Virgil’s feet with an echoing thud . 

“No…” Logan finally whispered, tears threatening to fall as he watched Virgil bite into the bloody object. “No!” He snapped, the image disappearing. “This isn’t what will happen! Virgil is not a murderer!” 

……..

Suddenly, he gave a jerk, his soul returning to the body that now hunched over the small table before him. The pain of what he saw came rushing in, causing him to gasp as the tears ran down his chin, dripping onto the polished wood. 

“You’re wrong,” the sound of Logan’s cracked voice came, “That will not happen.”

“Logan,” Patton sighed softly, moving to rest a soft hand atop of the witch’s, causing him to jerk away. 

“You’re wrong!!” Logan snapped angrily, lifting his head to glare at the beast. 

“I’m not…” Patton breathed calmly, a pained look of concern apparent on his features. “You know as well as I do that we do not control visions of the future.They are what they are. If your friend is to return to his human body…” he paused, glancing away as if ashamed to repeat it, “then the prince won’t survive.’

To be continued...


	14. My Dearest Procyon CH 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still shocked by the recent vision, Logan tries to devise a way out.
> 
> February Prompts are here!
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190846141197/to-lie-or-not-to-lie
> 
> Today's prompt: Shelter/Survive
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety... Kinda along with Logicality... Kinda...
> 
> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here.

How long had it been since Logan had shut down? It couldn’t have been more than an hour or so but time was so hard to comprehend for someone as old as Patton. The passage of time was a concept that one had to learn and to be honest, Patton wasn’t that great at studies. 

He moved to place another cloak in his pack, the leather quickly becoming a bit bulky. His gaze wandered back towards the witch still huddled in the same spot as before. There certainly was something about his broader shoulders and bare chest that attracted the dragon’s gaze. Patton didn’t allow his gaze to linger for too long, despite how distracting the man was. He needed to gather his things before the moon rose too high. 

Still, Patton was worried for the witch. He hadn’t budged since he seemed to calm himself after the initial outburst of what they had witnessed. Patton supposed that it wasn’t too much of a surprise, all things considered. Still, it _had_ been awhile. 

Patton tightened the drawstring of his pack before tossing it over his shoulder and moving to Logan’s side. He sank down next to him, offering a small concerned smile. 

“Hey, I’m all ready to go,” the smaller man offered pleasantly. “Maybe we should-”

“We can’t tell them,” Logan interrupted, almost making the other man jump. The witch hadn’t even looked up from where he had been staring off into space. 

“We can’t tell them what, kiddo?” Patton tilted his head.

“We can’t tell them about the vision,” Logan clarified, finally glancing up at the creature next to him. 

“Logan, do you really think that lying-”

“Yes,” Logan cut him off flatly, forgetting for a brief moment that the adorable man was an intimidatingly powerful being. “If I am to discover a way to save…” he paused, struggling with his turmoil once more. “If Roman is to survive, then I think it is best neither of them know of the vision.” 

Patton’s lips pursed into a thin line as he considered the words. He did _not_ condone lying, but perhaps he didn’t understand the situation as well as he wished to. Surely, Logan knew his friends better than Patton. 

“If you really think that will help.” Patton sighed softly. 

“I do,” the witch nodded. Logan seemed to relax at Patton’s compliance, almost as if he were relieved. “If I am to shelter them both from their fates, then perhaps it will be easier the less they know,” Logan explained, “This would include your true nature as well I’m afraid.”

“Wait, you want to lie to them about me?” Patton huffed, “Why?”

Logan hesitated at the question. He had many reasons for wanting to withhold the truth from Virgil, and in extension Roman, but most of them were driven by emotion rather than logic. Still, regardless of the reasons behind it he felt it was imperative. 

“I am still not acquainted with the prince well enough to know how he would react to having a dragon in our traveling company. I am sure he would act appropriately, but I would rather avoid any biases that may exist,” Logan explained as he pushed to his feet and offered out a hand for the smaller figure. “His first suggestion was to slay you, I can only assume his opinions of dragons are not very buoyant.” 

“I dunno, Logan. Maybe you’re not giving him enough credit,” Patton sighed, accepting the hand and allowing Logan to pull him back up. 

“Regardless, for your safety, I would prefer he remained ignorant.” Logan couldn’t help but enjoy just how warm the other man’s hand felt in his. It was as if Patton had his own internal heater, raising the temperature of the air around him. 

“Logan, lying is wrong…” Patton argued in a hesitant and melancholy whisper. He resisted the urge to flush at the man’s words. It was kind of adorable that Logan wanted to protect him, despite the fact that Patton could engulf him in flames with just a thought.

“Perhaps…” Logan agreed, just as hesitant. “But how can lying be bad if it protects someone?” 

The question caught the powerful creature off guard, causing him to pause to consider it. Maybe Logan was right. Perhaps lying wasn’t so bad when used to protect someone you cared about. However if that was true, where was the line drawn?

“I still don’t know, kiddo. I’m not really comfortable with this,” Patton admitted softly, pulling his hand away to wrap his arms around himself, “I’m not very good at lying and I don’t want to make a bad first impression on your friends.”

“Patton,” Logan whispered, causing Patton to practically melt at the softness of his tone. If the smaller man wasn’t already aware that Logan was a witch, the way he said Patton’s name was grounds for accusing him of such. “I would not ask you to do anything you are not comfortable with. However, you will not have to lie. I will claim that you are a pyromancer, that will explain the flames from earlier. If the others have more questions, I will answer them. You do not have to worry.”

Patton still didn’t like the idea, but he nodded. Logan was smart, if he thought that fibbing about what Patton was would protect him, then he was probably right. Patton didn’t venture out into the world enough to know these things himself. Still…

“Okay,” Patton finally conceded, obviously not too thrilled by the idea, “If you really think it is best.” 

“Thank you, Patton,” Logan breathed, shoulders slumping with relief at the other’s compliance. “I give you my word that I will explain everything to them when the moment is right.” 

Patton didn’t bother replying. He wasn’t quite sure if he believed the words, but for now it didn’t matter. Logan had made his decision and Patton was simply along for the ride. Whatever happened, Patton’s destiny was intertwined with these three, that was certain….


	15. My Dearest Procyon CH 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton meets the bois
> 
> February Prompts are here!
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190879598197/suspicion-and-suspects
> 
> Today's prompt: Raw/Regal
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety... Kinda along with Logicality... Kinda...
> 
> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

Virgil began to stir as footsteps approached in the early darkness. He didn’t want to move from his safe and warm spot, curled against Roman’s chest.

At some point during their wait, Roman had shifted to get more comfortable, sprawling on his side near the fire and holding Virgil’s furry form against him, cloak wrapped around them both as he snored lightly. The raccoon had considered clawing his way out of the prince’s hold at first, but the evening was cold and he had been very tired. So, he allowed Roman to cuddle closer as they slept. 

“Aw!” a whispering squeal came. Virgil’s fur stood on end at the unfamiliar voice. He didn’t like strangers, especially ones that came near his friends!

Wait… when had he started considering Roman a friend?

It didn’t matter at the moment. Virgil wrestled out from Roman’s arm, clawing his way out of the cloak that held in a surprising amount of the prince’s heat. The raccoon began to hiss and spit, placing himself between Roman and whoever approached, earning a grumbling mumble from the prince as his protector guarded him so valiantly.

“Ah!” Patton squeaked at the sight before him. “Oh my gosh!!! He is the most precious thing I have ever seen!” the dragon shrilly cried as saliva dripped menacingly from the beast’s mouth. 

Virgil took in the small stature of the man before him, his golden brown curls bouncing as he rocked excitedly on his heels. The man wore enough layers to make it appear as if his form was a bit bulky. Overall, the guy could be described as adorable to say the least… That is, if he wasn’t approaching them unarmed, in the middle of the night, and there wasn’t something inherently off-putting about his aura. No. Virgil did not like this.

“It is alright,” Logan’s words reassured as the witch moved to stand next to his new companion. “Your vigilance is impressive, but Patton is not here to harm us.” 

The raccoon seemed to hesitate, gaze shifting between his cloaked partner and the overly enthusiastic individual next to him. Was Logan planning on bringing this man along with them? If so, Virgil wasn’t quite sure he could handle another overdramatic addition to their party. Roman had only been with them a day and he was already rubbing the raccoon raw with his theatrical nature. 

Logan stepped forward, bending to offer to carry the beast, still on edge from the sudden appearance of this stranger. Virgil hesitated only a moment before waddling forward and allowing the witch to pick him up. 

“Patton will be joining us on this venture,” Logan explained, earning a growl in response. It was just as Virgil expected. The witch really needed to learn some self-restraint when it came to adopting strays. 

“But don’t worry, kiddo,” Patton interjected as Logan shifted to face him, “I won’t be much of a hassle! Just think of me as some good old fashion moral support!”

The beast pinned his grinning expression with a flat look. He definitely wouldn’t survive the night. There was no way in hell Virgil was going to be able to handle such a cheery disposition. He twisted in Logan’s arms to peer up at him, silently communicating with his partner. 

“The dragon? Yes, well…” Logan explained hesitantly, glancing up only briefly at the other man. “Patton was the only thing I found in the caves.” It was the truth. “I believe he is the key to finding what we need.” 

Virgil eyed the small man once more. He was the key to finding a source powerful enough to sustain both of them? Virgil watched as the little stranger met Logan’s eyes and almost seemed to soften more. How was that even possible?! Virgil was going to be sick.

“So, there is no dragon?” Roman asked, earning the attention of the group. The prince sat up, cloak falling off his shoulder as he lifted a hand to muss his already chaotic hair. His usual regal appearance was nowhere to be found as he began to wipe the sleep from his eyes with a yawn. “Then what was all that fire?” he mumbled, dropping his hand and peering up at Logan.

“Patton is a pyromancer,” Logan offered, still within the realm of truth. Patton did use fire magics and therefore could be classified as a pyromancer. 

“So… What? He sends a massive amount of flames to burn down the forest in an attempt to…” Roman offered, “What? Scare off travelers?”

“That is exactly right, Your Majesty!” Logan pounced on the opportunity for an explanation. Perhaps, however, he was a bit too quick with his agreements. Virgil shot him a suspicious glance as the prince seemed to preen in pride of himself. 

“Your Majesty?” Patton chirped. “You must be Roman! Logan told me all about you! I hope he hasn’t throne me for a loop.” 

Patton’s proud smile was far too large for his small stature, hands resting on his hips as he waited for a response. 

Roman paused as the meaning of the pun sank in before giving a nasally snort of amusement. 

“A pyromancer, huh?” the prince asked, giving his own grin. “Sounds to me like you would be better suited as a fool, good sir!” he teased lightly. 

“Aw! Are you offering me a job? What a kind jester!” Patton countered earning a laugh from the royal. 

Virgil couldn’t wish for a quick enough death as he shot another glare at the man holding him. This was all his fault. He brought this man into their company; he brought this torture!

Logan paid no attention to the raccoon, however, his gaze glued to the newcomer, expression soft, the corner of his lips turned up to form a soft half smile. Realization struck the procyon. He could see it in his face,Logan was already a lost cause. .

The gaze of the smaller beast shifted to take in the man currently working through an arsenal of puns to make Roman laugh. He certainly didn’t see the appeal. Patton could be described as endearing sure, but that really was all he had going for him as far as Virgil could tell. 

Whatever the cause, the animal had never seen his partner so hopelessly lost in his own sentiment. Virgil didn’t trust it. Patton had to have done something to his usually apathetic partner! 

Something had happened in that cave and Virgil was going to get to the bottom of it…

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here.


	16. ‘Deceit’s Horde! Stay Out!’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Virgil are on a mission from Roman... 
> 
> February Prompts are here!
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190879782352/deceits-horde-stay-out
> 
> Today's prompt: Height / Horde
> 
> Ship: Background Dukeceit and Prinxiety
> 
> Inspired by lizardshuffle ‘s Unusual Dragon Horde series: https://lizardshuffle.tumblr.com/tagged/hoards

“Deceit’s Horde?” Virgil read aloud, head tilting in confusion. 

“Yes well,” Logan sighed as he adjusted his glasses, “I didn’t have the heart to correct his spelling.”

“And you’re sure it will be in here?” The anxious side pressed for the umpteeth time. 

“I can not be certain. However, it is the most likely place. Deceit has been known to collect things that do not belong to him.”

“Have you ever been inside?” Virigil asked.

“Not exactly.”

“What do you mean ‘not exactly’? You either have or you haven’t!” Virgil snapped, not liking this at all. 

“I have…” Logan adjusted his glasses once more, wrapping his arms around himself, “had a few glimpses of what is inside.”

“Ugh! This is pointless! Let’s just get this over with before he comes back,” the purple clad man groaned before waving a hand to discorporate the padlock and push the door open.

The scuffed wooden door gave way with groan as it swung open, light pouring into the dark room. 

The two men hesitated in the doorway, allowing their eyes to adjust to the new environment. Humid heat engulfed them as they took in the sight before them. The walls were fairly bare minus a few book cases filled to bursting with large volumes of literature. A small sitting area was off set with a tall reading lamp and some paper. 

The men’s gazes, however, were drawn to the sheer height of the mound in the center of the room. The two of them inched forward, far too dumbstruck by the sight before them to do much else.

“He wasn’t kidding when he called it a hoard,” Virgil whispered in awe, neck craning. 

“An apt name, for certain,” Logan agreed, reaching out for one of the items that had rolled from the pile and now sat at his feet. A large farting noise echoed loudly through the room as Logan’s hand tightened around the thing and they tensed frozen in fear. 

A moment pasted in silence… then another….

Finally Virgil burst into laughter, causing the logical side to frown as he turned over the item in hand. The source of the noise. 

It appeared to be a small red dragon plush, a small green heart clutched between its tiny claws that read ‘True love is farting next to you’.

“Remus,” the two man acknowledged at the same time, not surprised in the least as Logen set the stuffed animal back where he had found it. He moved forward starting to shift through the other plushies that made up the horde, all of which were some form of reptile whether it be a dragon, a lizard, or even a gecko. 

“I had always assumed that Deceit was part snake, due to Thomas’ opinion of him,” Virgil admitted as he moved to a different section to begin digging as well. 

“Technically he is,” Logan clarified, “from what I understand however, he simply prefers to identify as a dragon. I do not see the harm in it, besides the occasion stuffed animal that goes missing,” he shrugged. 

“Hey! Slime is not just any stuffed animal!” Virgil snapped defensively. In fact, ‘Slime’ was the reason they were there in the first place. The small dinosaur in question was covered in glimmering neon green beaded scales that could be pushed this way or that to cause him to change colors. “Roman hasn’t been able to sleep since he went missing. He’s shattered and if I don’t find the damn thing soon I’m going to shatter him!” Virgil huffed in frustration. 

“I know, I know,” Logan soothed softly. “He has to be in here somewhere, why don’t you start at the top and I’ll work my way around the base.”

Virgil gave a nod of agreement before starting to climb.

La Fin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is only a day late at least...  
> Still kinda short... Sorry...


	17. My Dearest Procyon CH7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil is back and things get a bit out of hand with his new found companions...
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190889042342/prophecy-of-the-procyon
> 
> Today's prompt: Obey / Oasis
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety... Kinda along with Logicality... Kinda...
> 
> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

“Can I hold him? Please?!” The whiney voice came, grating on one of the very few nerves Virgil had left.

“I said no.” Virgil replied flatly, pulling the black cat a bit further away from Patton’s pouting presence. Logan had changed back into his feline form about half an hour after the introductions were made. Virgil had quickly scooped up the cat, hands sliding under his front legs, before he could dart for their new companion. 

The fur covered creature pinned Virgil with an even and unamused look as he was yanked away from Patton’s small form. The whole thing was ridiculous and if Logan didn’t know any better, he would assume that Virgil was either jealous or overprotective of him. He supposed that he should be flattered by the idea, but for the most part he was just tired. It had been a very long day. 

“Come on, Patton,” Roman interjected, which Virgil was extremely grateful for, “let's leave the grumpy gus to sulk on his own.” He wrapped an arm around Patton’s shoulder, surprised by the amount of heat his small form gave off. “Why don’t I tell you about the palace I grew up in?”

“Oh! That sounds wonderful, Roman!” Patton agreed eagerly. 

“Well, it is…” Roman paused, his elation fading slightly as he realized what he had said. “Was,” he corrected before moving on without missing a beat, “beautiful! Tapestries and landscapes of exotic places as far as the eye could see!” He lifted his free hand, waving it in front of them as if to help visualize the scene. “It was an oasis of culture in the desert that is our society! There were countless rooms for every occasion, guest, and activity! I had a whole staff of people waiting to obey my every command! And during the summer…”

Virgil tuned him out as they continued walking, once more thankful that the two had each other to keep themselves occupied. He had no time for their antics. They needed to focus on the task at hand. They were getting closer to whatever awaited them at the end of their journey and Virgil was keen on preparing for it. Whatever ‘it’ was.

He shifted Logan to his shoulder, allowing the cat to climb up and into his backpack, no doubt ready to curl up and sleep for the night. He paid close attention to the way the weight shifted on his back, curious if the beast was actually settling down or sneaking another peak at their new companion. 

‘All that is gained, will be lost again. Never to be found for the one without hope.’ The words echoed through his thoughts as they often did when he was alone long enough to think. He still didn’t quite understand the fortune given by the seer, and perhaps he never would. Fortunes were funny that way, they only ever seemed to make sense after they had come true. 

He had asked Logan what it could mean, but the man knew about as much as Virgil did; and Logan had been the one to provide him with that little gem of fortuity in the first place?! They had discussed the possible meaning over the long spanse of their journey, but not much had come of it aside from the conclusion that Virgil was, no doubt, ‘the one without hope’. It was fitting really, he had never been an optimistic person, and certainly didn’t plan on changing that now, prophecy or no prophecy. 

‘ _You’re fidgeting, Virgil.’_ Logan’s mind brushed against his, stirring him from his thoughts. Virgil gland down at where his hand was toying with the clasp of his cloak, no doubt causing his pack to jostle, disturbing the feline.

“Sorry,” the witch mumbled with a sigh, dropping his hands. 

‘ _You seem more uneasy than usual.’_

“Do I?” Virgil snapped in return, glaring at the ground in front of him as he pressed on. “I wonder why?! Maybe it has something to do with the pyromancer you decided to bring along like a new pet.’

‘ _Patton chose to come along on his own accord. He is important to this journey, Virgil.’_

“No, the dragon is important. Not some half baked pyromaniac.” He growled, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that the prince and the man in question were still deep in conversation. 

‘ _Your reaction to him is a bit extreme.’_

“You could have at least asked me first. I thought we were in this together?” The words were spoken in more of an annoyed and defeated whisper than an accusation. Regardless, they certainly struck home if Logan’s sudden silence was anything to go by. Virgil knew he should feel at least a little remorseful for the shot against his partner, but refused to allow the feeling to take root as he ducked beneath a low hanging branch. 

“-anyways, Virgil?” Roman’s voice came, pulling the witch’s attention back into the world around him. How long had the prince been talking to him?

“What?” Virgil huffed, as the man hurried forward to stand next to him. 

“I said, where are we headed, anyways?” Roman repeated. 

“Oh, dear,” Patton squeaked loud enough that Virgil assumed he had pulled up right behind their more muscled companion, “you mean you’ve been traveling with them and you don’t know where you’re going? Roman, you really ought to be more careful, kiddo. You’re a prince! What if someone wanted to kidnap you and hold you for ransom or something! You could be in real danger and you wouldn’t know where to find us! And what if you were hurt?!” The dragon smaller man looked aghast with concern as both Virgil and Roman glanced back at him. The prince, however, found it amusing, and gave a boisterous laugh. 

“It is a bit late to start worrying about that now. I’ve checked off that whole list, minus the ransom.” Roman teased lightly, causing Patton to go wide eyed in horror. 

“You were _prince-napped_?” he gasped, “How did you get away?”

“Well,” Roman grinned, glancing at Virgil, who was _not_ amused. The witch gave a roll of his eyes before starting to move again, obviously expecting the other two to follow. “I haven’t escaped yet.”

“You mean…” Patton trailed off as they began to walk on.

“Yup. The prince-nappers are none other than your two favorite magic users,” Roman clarified.

“ _No!”_

“Yes.” 

“You weren’t kidnapped.” Virgil huffed, pulling his hood up so that he could sulk in piece. 

“Prince-napped,” Roman corrected. 

“Whatever! You weren’t… _that,_ ” the witch grumbled. 

“I was tied up and gagged!” Roman swooned dramatically as if it truly was an atrocity. 

“Oh, poor Roman! I hope it wasn’t too bad. You weren’t hurt were you?” Patton cooed, genuinely worried; or at least acting as if he were. 

“Do not fear, my dear Patton! It takes a lot more than a bit of witchcraft to wound me!” Roman boomed, striking a pose that made the shortest of the three give a giggle. 

Virgil felt his pack shift, signaling Logan’s movements as the cat peaked out from the opening of the flaps at the sound of Patton’s twittering laughter. The whole thing had Virgil’s hackles raised. He gave a low growl, wishing he were back in raccoon form so that it would be socially acceptable to claw at them both. 

“Like a knife to the side?” Virgil countered flatly, pausing to turn, bringing attention to the large blood stain that still marred Roman’s ripped shirt. “You were _not_ kid-prince… WHATEVER-napped! You were found bleeding out in the middle of the road! I-”  
‘ _We’_ Logan’s correction came.

“ _We_ found you and healed you! The ropes were a precaution! Your family is responsible for the genicide of my people and I wasn’t going to take the chance that you might try and hurt us! The gag was because you obviously talk too much!” Virgil snapped shoving his index finger into the prince’s far too broad chest, shaking slightly in his agitated state.

Roman’s smile faded at Virgil’s words, his expression turning stoic as he stared down at the beautiful and angry man. He didn’t even bother denying the witch’s words. He knew the atrocities his family had committed and despite his best efforts, he had never been able to stop them. It was always ‘this is how a country is run, Roman’ or ‘when you’re king you’ll understand, Roman’; but he doubted he would ever understand and now… now he was fairly sure they were all dead, no doubt haunted in the afterlife by the very people they had ostracized. 

“V-Virgil…” Patton’s watery voice came as he tried to hold back tears, “Is that true?” 

The teary gaze caught both of their attention, surprised that someone would be so openly moved by their own emotions. Virgil allowed his hand to drop, suddenly uncomfortable with the attention.

“Well… I mean…” Virgil stuttered, unsure of himself.

“You _saved_ Roman?” he whispered in awe. Virgil tensed as he realized that the man was tearing up, not in remorse for the countless that had died at the hands of the royal family, but that Virgil had valiantly rescued an injured man. He was not accustomed to admiration to say the least.

“I guess?” Virgil offered, averting his gaze sheepishly. 

“There is no ‘I guess’ about it! Virgil is a hero!” Roman bellowed, an arm suddenly wrapping around his slender shoulders.

Virgil’s eyes went wide at the sudden change in tone along with the physical contact, which he most certainly did _not_ lean into. He panicked, shoving the prince away from him, shoulders hunched with tension. 

“I’m not a hero!” he growled viciously before turning on his heels, completely done with the two of them. 

“Yes you are,” Roman argued, just managing to catch himself before hurrying after the witch, “and once I have regained my Kingdom I shall have you knighted! Ser Virgil the Vitriolic!” 

“I don’t even know what that means!” the witch huffed in annoyance.

Patton wiped away the tears in his eyes as he began to follow the two arguing men, unable to ignore the fond warmth that began to bloom in chest. It was nice to be part of a group again, to be included. He wished the others could be there. It wouldn’t be long now. Everything was coming together just as it was meant to… 

To be continued….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here.


	18. My Dearest Procyon CH8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse of civilization makes the prince start questioning himself.
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190896565517/dressing-down-the-king
> 
> Today's prompt: Trust / Trial
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety and Logicality
> 
> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

“How much longer?” Roman drawled, shoulders slumping. 

“The next village should only be another hour or so walk. You’ll be fine.” Virgil grumbled in return. 

“You say that, but you have a nice sensible pair of boots on, Ser Virgil.” Roman pointed out flatly, “I’m still wearing the pair I went to court in! These boots were made for judgement not walking!”

Virgil huffed, careful not to shift the pack on his back as he went. The dawn was breaking in the east. Logan was usually awake by now. Whatever happened yesterday must have really drained him. 

The witch couldn’t help but give a glance back at their newest companion, who was currently giving Roman an apologetic yet reassuring look. There was _definitely_ something off about him. He didn’t trust him in the least! Whatever it was, Virgil would get to the bottom of it! For now though, they needed food, sleep, and some shelter. 

………

True to Virgil’s word, the trees around them seemed to break away and a village appeared in the distance, smoke billowing from chimneys and a handful of townsfolk bustling to and fro in the early morning light. 

Virgil pulled to a stop just outside the woods. They needed to be careful from here on out. It would probably be best to lay some ground rules with the others. His gaze shifted towards Patton, who had stepped up beside him, his gaze turned to the nestle of buildings and homes still a good way away.

The tiny man bit his bottom lip almost nervously as if he was well aware of what civilization meant. Virgil supposed that with the level of magic, which seemed to come off him in waves, he would have to in order to survive. Society was not kind to people that were different. People feared what they didn’t understand. Virgil, Patton, and Logan were the embodiment of those things. The witch’s gaze shifted to Roman, and he had to pause as his breath was forced from his chest. 

Roman stood tall, a silhouette against the orange and purple sky as the sun continued to rise. His tawny hair, littered with tiny twigs and the occasion scrap of leaf, swayed with the morning breeze. His face was lit with a bright grin, eyes shinning as he took in the sight before him, grime marring his cheeks here and there. He was breathtaking. Virgil couldn’t look away. 

“Awww!!!!” Patton squealed loudly, causing the witch to practically jump out of his skin. He really needed to stop, with the high pitched noises or Virgil’s heart was going to give out.

Turning towards the smaller man, to see just what the fuss was about, Virgil frowned. Apparently, Logan had began to stir while the witch was busy staring. The black cat had poked his head out of the bag to take stock of their surroundings, gaining the attention of their overzealous traveling companion, who had offered his hands out for the little beast.

Logan had groggily leap from the bag and into the soft warm hands of his affectionate captor, much to Patton’s delite. The feline now lay coddled in the arms of the small man, pressed again his warm chest as it gave a yawn and began cleaning itself. The sight was utterly sickening, earning an eye roll from their guide. 

“We need to be careful from here on in,” Virgil explained, trying to ignore the excited little screeches from the man next to him, due to the fact that Logan simply existed. 

“In what way, good Ser?” Roman’s sang curiously.

“Enough with the ‘Ser’ crap,” the witch growled in annoyance, unable to meet the far too attractive man’s eyes. “Populations can be dangerous. We need to stay on our guard,” Virgil explained. 

“Nonsense,” Roman chuckled, “People are chivalrous and kind. I’m sure if we talk to whoever is in charge, they will understand our situation and offer to assist us.”

The words had both Virgil and Patton staring at the prince in disbelief, even Logan was paying attention to the man now. Sure, Roman was a prince, but they had no idea he was _that_ privileged. 

“You can’t be serious,” Virgil scoffed. 

“What, why?” Roman retorted curiously.

“Wow…” Virgil breathed in awe of the man’s density. He wasn’t sure if he was cut out for this conversation.

“Well,” Patton interrupted, much to Virgil’s relief, “I am sure that that is exactly how it would go if _The_ Prince Roman strode into that village, bud.”

“Exactly,” Roman preened.

“Yeah, but Roman,” Patton continued, “if a member of the royal family appeared in a small village, then word would get around fairly quickly, and didn’t you say there were some pretty bad people after you?”

“Ah,” Roman nodded, “I see your point, my dear Patton. What would you suggest?”

The tension Virgil hadn’t realized he had been holding drained away. Whatever Patton’s deal was, he definitely handled that better than the witch ever could have. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as Virgil expected, but he still didn’t trust him. 

“Well, first things first, I suggest you hide those clothes until we can get you some new ones,” Virgil offered, causing Roman to glance down at himself. 

“Very well,” he acknowledged, taking stock of his soiled clothing. 

“I have an extra cloak you can borrow!” Patton offered helpfully, voice sounding a bit stuffy as Logan climbed onto his shoulder.

“I would also leave the talking to us,” Virgil mused, “and absolutely _no_ mention of magic or what we are.” 

“Surely, not everyone there hates witches,” Roman protested.

“No, not everyone, bud,” Patton tried to soothe gently. 

“Almost everyone,” Virgil added flatly, “enough that mentioning it once could get us run out of town or killed.”

“Virgil!” Patton chastised.

“What?! It’s the truth!” Virgil retorted in his defense.

“It’s alright, Patton. Virgil is right,” Roman sighed softly, turning his attention back to village, “I shouldn’t ignore the truth just because I can’t see it. I’ve lived a different life than you both. If keeping things quiet protects you, then that is what I must do.”

Patton’s worried expression softened affectionately as he listened to Roman. Virgil on the other hand seemed confused. His brows furrowed as he studied the prince. There was no way he could have expected the man to be so understanding. People like Roman, people privileged and regarded as royalty, could not possibly see the way others suffered, the way the world mistreated them. No, they were far too self absorbed. They lived in their world and never bothered to look out the window to see the other side. Roman’s response, however, seemed to contradict that . Here he was, sheltered and beautiful, and yet willing to try and look past that. He was so…. Different. 

“Roman…” Patton breathed in excitement, the same tone he had used when he had called Virgil a hero. He peered at the prince with large eyes that seemed to idolize the man, making the prince puff his chest in pride. The whole thing was ridiculous. 

“Yeah, well, we’ll see,” Virgil huffed, averting his gaze to glare at the ground. “Acknowledging an issue and living it are two different things.” 

“I am not above listening to your advice, Ser Virgil,” Roman offered. 

“I’m not a Ser,” Virgil grumbled shifting his gaze towards the royal. 

“Sir then?” Roman offered, earning a scoff.

“No. Ugh, can you just… not?” Virgil spat. “Whatever! Patton, give him that cloak. We’ll just have to have a trial by fire.”

“W-what?” Patton stuttered, sounding a bit nervous. 

“The cloak,” Virgil reminded, frowning at him. What was with him?

“Oh! Right, silly me,” Patton giggled, though the sound didn’t fit quite right. The smaller man shifted to take off his pack, the cat that had been resting on his shoulder jumping down to sit next to him.

Patton dug through the large bag, pulling out an oversize red cloak with golden buttons. He offered it out to the prince. 

“Oh…” Roman exhaled in reverence as he took the fine fabric, “Patton… My dear friend… It is beautiful.”

“Well, thanks big guy! I made it myself.” Patton admitted with a bit of pride. “It may not be fit for royalty, but it will definitely set you apart as a noble.” Roman flourished the cloak in the air as he twirled it around to rest on his shoulders.

“Great! _That’s_ not going to bring attention to us at all,” the witch scoffed sarcastically, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t have passed as a commoner, rags or no,” Roman pointed out as he worked the clasp closed. 

“You’re not wrong,” Virgil admitted with a shrug of his shoulders. Roman was far too exaggerated in his mannerisms to pass as anything but a noble even when dressed down. The witch shot him a sideways glance, taking in the way the red fabric rested on his broad shoulders, brightening his complexion a bit. It suited him, not that Virgil would ever admit it. 

Roman was a picture of nobility, he stood tall and proud as he surveyed the valley before them. For the first time since they had met, Virgil saw the King that Roman was conditioned to become. The smudges of dirt on his face made him seem older, more worn to the passing of time. The witch wondered absently how long it would take for a kind hearted man like Roman to break under the weight of the crown that was meant for his head. The image was only ruined by the debris still tangled in his locks. 

“Well,” Virgil huffed, “If you’re going to play the part of a nobleman you might want to do something about that hair.”

He moved towards the prince, glancing briefly at Patton who seemed to shoot him a mischievous smile. It was as if the petite man knew more than he was letting on. The strange observation was gone as quickly as it came when Patton gave a small gasp of wonderment as Logan jumped onto his shoulder once more. 

“What is wrong with my golden curls?!” Roman cried, hand lifted to try and run his fingers through his mane just to become tangled.

Virgil gave an amused snort at the prince’s distress before motioning for him to bend down. Roman complied, leaning in closer to the witch, breathing in the scent of pine and lavender that always seemed to follow him. It was almost intoxicating with how close they now were, Roman’s gaze lifted to take in every inch of the stormy man’s features as if he were committing it to memory. 

The witch couldn’t help but flush under the intense look, lifting his shaky hands to begin picking out the brush that remained in the sandy locks. The prince was hopeless, that much was for certain, but he had no right to look at someone like that… Like they had hung the moon and told the stars where to sit in the sky. It wasn’t right. 

Patton watched the two, covering his mouth with the hand currently not occupied by a lounging feline, doing his best to keep his giddiness from ruining the others’ moment. He had seen this time and time again; the two men had it bad for one another and they’d barely known each other for more than a day! Patton just loved love. He couldn’t be more happy for them! It was just so sweet and good and pure and happy and wholesome and sweet and lovely and he was running out of things to say, or think rather…

Dread sank in his stomach like lead. His smile faded, but his hand remained in place, hiding his frown. The two of them were so adorable together, they deserved all the happiness in the world. Why did it have to end? Why did that vision have to exist?

“What are we going to do, Logan?” he whispered softly, his remorse dripping from the words as the cat responded with what could only be described as a melancholy chirp.

Their boys’ relationship would no doubt grow the more time they spent together, which meant that the inevitable pain that would arise would be that much worse. 

The question was, would the love that was blooming between the two of them be worth it in the end?

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here.


	19. My Dearest Procyon CH9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Virgil's suspicion only grows...
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190924372657/the-only-virgil
> 
> Today's prompt: Waste / Warmth
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety and Logicality
> 
> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

Logan stretched, claws extending from his paws as his back arched, a yawn escaping him. It was nice to finally have a roof over their heads. It had been awhile since either of the witches had slept in a bed as well. He flopped onto his side, soaking up the sun that shone through the window of the tiny room, basking in its warmth. 

They had arrived at the village the day before and found the closest inn to purchase a room. Roman, of course, had a number of things to say in response to discovering that they were all meant to share one room. Eventually Virgil caved and allowed the man to purchase a second, under the guise that it would be improper for a lord to bed with his underlings. In all honesty, the guy was definitely taking the whole ruse a bit too seriously. Still, Virgil was a bit more at ease not having to face the man’s morning routine; which, according to Logan was _extensive_.

The group had split in two, Logan and Roman in one room, Patton and Virgil in the other. Everyone seemed to have their protests at Virgil’s room assignments but they all came around eventually.

“Do you really plan on lounging about all day?” Virgil grumbled as he pulled on his other boot, shooting the cat a glare. “We have to be moving on soon and supplies need to be gathered. It would be easier if you put in your fair share of work.” 

‘ _Yes, because merchants would most certainly love to barter with a feline.’_ Logan replied sarcastically, tail flicking lazily back and forth. 

“At least I’m trying to be productive,” Virgil hissed in return. “Meanwhile, you’re just being a waste of space.”

‘ _Virgil,’_ He could practically hear the sigh in the projected voice, “ _tensions caused by becoming hyper focused on tasks at hand can become unhealthy if you are not careful.’_

“Yeah, well, someone has to make sure we’re being careful!” Virgil shot back, moving to pull on his cloak, “Plus, _somehow_ , I got stuck on babysitting duty. Princey thinks he can buy everything in sight and Patton won’t stop his screeching every time we walk by a shop, or a child, or a stray. I am pretty sure he started squealing at a piece of trash yesterday. The man has an unhealthy obsession with anything that could be considered ‘cute'. So, I’m afraid that ‘Tense Virgil’ is ‘The Only Virgil’ you’re getting today.”

Logan gave another stretch, both front and back paws extended before he rolled off the window sill, landing on his feet just beneath it with a resounding plop. He gave one more yawn before striding over to the witch and jumping on the bed next to him. 

‘ _I apologize that I am unable to assist you in our errands, Virgil. I do hope you understand my reasoning.’_ The cat offered, peering up at him with those mismatched eyes. 

Virgil glanced down to meet his gaze, his frown deepening before he pulled up his hood to hide it. He hated when Logan used that soft tone against him; the bastard knew that Virgil was weak against it and took full advantage of that fact. 

“I do,” the witch growled in annoyance, “if anyone saw a raccoon traveling with you guys, they would ask too many questions, and your whole shirtless thing could be an issue too. I understand the reasons, Logan.” Of course, knowing the reasons and liking them were two different things. 

There was a lapse in their conversation as Virgil moved to stand, beginning to pack a bag for the day. 

The witch still wasn’t quite sure what was going on between Logan and Patton, but he was not about to let the tiny man have a chance to work more of the spell he was putting on his friend, whatever it was. As for Patton, Virgil was fairly sure part of the reason he was so keen on bunking with Virgil’s partner was simply because of his feline affliction. 

‘ _It seems that you had acquired the majority of the supplies we needed during your trip into the market yesterday. Perhaps you could take the opportunity to do something you enjoy today? If you are worried about Roman and Patton, I will remain with them to make sure nothing happens.’_ Logan offered, jumping down from the bed and moving to sit next to the door. 

“Something I enjoy?” Virgil scoffed, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “What could I possibly enjoy, surrounded by so many normal people?” 

‘ _Well,’_ Logan offered, knowing full well how much Virgil detested society, ‘ _I happened to have been gathering some information about the local area during our time apart yesterday and may have a few suggestions.’_

“I am all ears,” the man hissed sarcastically, turning to face the feline.

 _‘There is a musical troupe on the north side of the village that has the townspeople quite enthusiastic_ ,’ Logan offered in return. He still didn't quite understand the expression ‘all ears’, despite Virgil's countless explanations. Nothing could be 'all ears'. It would be unrealistic and useless.

“Which means there will be a crowd. I think I’ll pass, thanks.”

_‘There is also a book shop near the noble district.’_

That had Virgil hesitating. Logan knew how much the man loved reading. In fact, he had never met anyone that had a similar passion for the written word outside of himself, though their prefered subject matter differed greatly. It had been some time since Virgil had managed to get his hands on a new book. Maybe he could just take a quick look, if he just happened to be in the area. 

‘ _And while you are there, perhaps you could attain a small text for myself?_ ’

“Ah, I see,” Virgil mused, with a small smile. “So, the truth comes out. You just want me to go because you found a book that _you_ want.” The accusation had Logan’s tail twitching as he lifted a paw to rub against one of his ears, almost as if the cat was nervous.

_‘I will admit, I had hoped you would find the opportunity preferable for my own gain, but I would not fault you for refusing.’_

“Relax, Logan,” Virgil chuckled. “I’ll swing by and pick up your book. Now come on, I left Patton and Roman to go down for breakfast by themselves, there is no telling how much trouble those two have already gotten into.”

…………………….

The witches found both Patton and the prince at a small table in the corner of the common room. Roman lounged against the wall, head resting against it as he snored softly. It was obvious that the inconsistent sleeping schedule he now found himself on was taking its toll. The red cloak Patton had given the prince was currently draped across the sleeping man’s broad chest like some sort of blanket, most likely the tiny man’s doing as well. 

The smaller man in question sat next to Roman’s sleeping form, the prince’s muscled figure making him look almost childlike in comparison as he toyed with a number of small flowers that littered the table, humming a soft tune. 

It took a moment for Patton to notice Virgil and his furry companion resting on his shoulder. As soon as he did however, he shot them a large broad smile and motioned them over. 

“Well, hey there!” Patton greeted in his usual sunny way as the two witches drew closer, “I was starting to worry you two were going to miss breakfast. The food here is really paw-some.” The wink he provided was certainly an unnecessary attachment to such a torturous pun.

Logan eyed the small man carefully. Despite the fact that he had managed to sleep longer last night than the other three, Patton looked tired. Dark circles rimmed the bottom of his eyes, his cheeks a bit flushed. The sight was certainly cause for concern when considering what the man actually was. Logan did not have much knowledge of dragons, but there had been nothing in the lore that mentioned that they were prone to illness. 

Virgil moved to sink into the chair across from the smaller man, pushing away the empty plate in front of Roman to make a bit of extra room. He glanced at the larger man, pursing his lips in frustration. He just couldn't understand how someone so obnoxious, even in his sleep, could still look so perfect. As if to prove his point, the prince snored loudly to the point that the sound startled himself awake with a jerk. 

"I think I will pass this time, thanks.” Virgil said in response to Patton, “There are a few more things I'd like to do before we leave," Virgil explained as Roman ran a clumsy hand through his curls, blinking away the sleep in his eyes. The witch’s face heated slightly at the sight of Roman's half lidded expression, messy curls framing his face haphazardly.

"Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, kiddo. You really should eat something," Patton countered with worry in his voice. 

"I’ll pick up something on the way. For now, I need you two to stay here with Logan," he instructed. 

"Wait," Roman's groggy voice interrupted, making Virgil finally meet his tired gaze. "You mean, you plan on going out into the village alone?"

The prince’s words earned a glare from the witch. Why did this man make him feel so flustered? "Yeah, what of it?" Virgil growled. 

"Well, that simply won't do!" Roman replied, his voice booming with the regal tone Virgil was starting to grow accustomed to. "A gentleman such as yourself should not be walking the streets alone! People would get the wrong idea! What if something happened? What if you were attacked or mugged?!"

"I'm pretty sure that wouldn't happen” Virgil scoffed. "Besides, even if it did, they would end up getting the short end of the stick," Roman's concern was endearing, but far too over dramatic for the witch's taste. 

"Nevertheless, I shall accompany you!" Roman interjected with a flourish of his hands. 

"No."

' _No._ ’

Virgil tensed as he felt the word brush against his mind at the same time he had spoken. He glanced at the source: the small cat now sitting in the chair next to him.

Logan's tail twitched anxiously as he peered up at the two men. With the way things were going, it would be unwise to allow the prince and his partner to spend anytime alone together. Despite his emotional shortcomings, Logan could see that Virgil was warming up to the prince. The closer the two got, the more likely the vision would come true. He was _not_ going to let that happen. 

Virgil's gaze narrowed in response to Logan's reaction, his frown deepening. Logan had never forbade Virgil from doing anything before, so why now? Why was he so adamant about this? Was it because of Patton? Did he not want to be alone with the pyromancer? 

Virgil's gaze shifted to the smaller man who smiled brightly at him. No, it wasn't that Logan didn't want to be alone with Patton. Patton seemed thrilled by the idea of staying behind, bouncing in his chair with excitement. If Virgil had to guess it was just due to the fact that he got to spend more time with Logan in his cat form.

No, Logan didn't want Virgil and Roman to be alone. Was that the reason for the room assignments? But why? And why was Logan hiding something from him? Secrecy was so unlike the feline. 

"On second thought," Virgil offered, pulling his gaze away from the cat and spotting the pout that had apparently settled on Roman's features. "Why not?"

"Really?!" Roman brightened instantly, the shining look so luminous it should have been illegal.

"Sure, like you said, people would get the wrong idea, and I'm supposed to be one of your servants, right?" Virgil offered. He could feel their other two companions eyes on him, boring holes into his very soul. 

' _Virgil… I know what you are doing,'_ Logan's voice came, ' _This is childish. You need a healthy amount of time to yourself. You have said it multiple times, the prince makes you tense. How are you expected to relax?'_

Virgil ignored him, pushing to his feet before pointedly meeting both Logan's and Patton's gaze as if in defiance. Logan's scramble to convince Virgil to leave the prince behind only seemed to reinforce his theory. Perhaps taking Roman with him would give the witch an opportunity to see what the other man knew about the situation and why they were being lied to. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here.


	20. My Dearest Procyon CH10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan grows anxious, Patton gets sick, Roman and Virgil discuss the color purple...
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190942881927/the-color-purple
> 
> Today's prompt: String / Shadow
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety and Logicality
> 
> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

Logan paced across the window sill, filling the room with an aura of anxiety. He did not like this, not in the least. Roman and Virgil had been gone for a little over an hour, leaving both he and Patton alone at the inn. 

“Buck up, kiddo,” Patton sighed softly from where he sat in the corner, still working on the small wreath of flowers in his hands. “I’m sure they’ll be just fine.”

The reassurance did not help. How could Patton be so nonchalant about the whole thing?! Virgil had blatantly left out of spite! It certainly wasn’t surprising, knowing the man’s attitude towards authority, but it still stung. What was Logan supposed to do now? Was he going to have to sit there and wait all day? 

He paused in his laps to glance down at his shadow stretching across the floorboards of the small room. The sun was still fairly low in the sky, signaling that it would indeed be a very length weight. 

The cat huffed, shifting to turn his back on the sight, not wanting the visual reminder of the seconds creeping by. He peered out the window, down at the street that lead towards the center of town. No doubt, that is where the two of them would be. What if they were arguing? What if today was the day of the vision? What if Virgil killed Roman and was dragged away to be dealt with by the authorities? What if-

“Choo!” the sudden sneeze startled a surprise hiss from the feline as he pounced to his feet, heart racing. 

“Excuse me,” Patton sniffled, glancing down at the now singed flower crown in his hands. “Oh… oh, no.” His brows furrowed in response at the sight, obviously devastated that the thing was ruined, small tendrils of smoke still rising from his nostrils. 

“Well,” the dragon sighed softly, setting the charred remains aside, and started rummaging through the pack next to him, “at least yours is still in one piece.”

When he finally produced the small crown of white and pink flowers Logan allowed himself to relax, lowering his hackles and giving the creature a flat stare. He was _not_ wearing that. 

“Be-leaf me, you’re going to look amazing!” Patton offered excitedly as he pushed to his feet. 

…………………..

“No.”

“But Virgil….” Roman whined in return practically hanging off the smaller man, eyes larger than the witch had ever seen them as the prince pleaded with him. 

“I said no, Roman. We don’t need it,” Virgil huffed, crossing his arms over his chest stubbornly. 

“Yes we do! It is a matter of life and death!” Roman swooned, flopping against Virgil’s other side dramatically.

“Life or death?” the spellcaster asked with an arched brow trying not to allow his amusement to show.  
“Yes!” Roman replied desperately.

“In what way?” 

“I shall give him a life of love and adoration like he has never known! Without him I shall die of boredom!” he cried, practically dropping to his knees as he clung to the smaller man.

“Promise?” Virgil asked evenly. 

“It shall be a horrible death! I shall not go quietly my good sir! It will be loud and torturous and-”

“Alright! Alright!” Virgil huffed, already tired of the wailing. He dug into his pocket for the small pence as Roman bounded to his feet, suddenly free of his horrid afflictions. Virgil pressed the coin into the young vendor’s small palm, waiting for Roman to pick which crafted creature he wanted. 

Countless beasts hung from a large rack, each tied up with a tiny string, their long furry bodies dangling helplessly as they waited for someone to save them. 

“The purple one!” Roman exclaimed, pointing out a small worm made of little purple wires, two black buttons sewn on for eyes. 

The choice made Virgil glance up, thankful that his own purple eye was hidden behind a small glamour to keep away unwanted attention. He watched as the girl climbed up on her little stool, untied the toy from its rack and handed it over silently, offering a small smile towards them both. 

“Thank you, M’lady!” Roman boomed, giving a flourishing bow towards the maiden, making her giggle, before he accepted the hideous thing. 

“Look Virgil! It matches your eye!” Roman offered when they were far enough away not to be overheard. 

The witch ducked his head at the words, feeling his face heat as he lifted a hand to touch the eye in question. He had cast the glamour as soon as they had spotted the village the day before. The fact that Roman remembered its exact shade of purple was… troubling. 

“Why do you and Logan have the purple eye anyways?” Roman asked, pulling the string through the air and causing the wurm attached to it to wiggle after the motions. 

It was a moment before Virgil managed to respond, not sure how much to tell the prince. The mumble was so soft that Roman had almost managed to miss it.

“What?” he asked in return, causing Virgil to draw further into the fabric of his cloak. 

The witch replied once more, the words still muffled and unintelligible.

“Virgil, I can’t understand you when you have a cloak shoved in your-”

“I said they’re mine!” Virgil snapped loudly, causing a few of the passersby to glance their way. 

Roman hesitated a moment before he burst into laughter, causing the people around them to relax and go about their day. 

“People don’t have purple eyes,” he commented, wrapping an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders and guiding him onwards. “Do they?” he asked suddenly unsure.

“No, they don’t,” the witch huffed, shoving his arm off of him, and continuing to hide his shamed face. “At least not normal people,” he added in a small whisper. 

“Well, I happen to like purple.” Roman stated, all humor gone from his voice.

Virgil glanced up at the prince, taking in his serious yet soft expression. It was obvious that he was being serious, not a hint of malice as far Virgil could tell. “Y-you do?”

“Well, yeah,” Roman shrugged, smiling softly down at the smaller man. “Purple is the color of royalty you know. I remember when I was younger, my father took me to a kingdom across the sea to the east where the Queen had forbidden anyone except royalty to wear the color.”

“Really?” Virgil asked, straightening a bit with his curiosity. The sight had Roman’s expression brightening slightly as he nodded. 

“Oh yes. In fact, at the welcoming banquet the night after we arrived, there was not a soul that hadn’t dressed completely in varying degrees of the color!” he explained excitedly. “I had never seen so many different shades: mauve, thistle, orchid, heliotrope, heather, mulberry. They were all so beautiful, especially when everyone moved to dance. The dresses and capes would flourish,” he gave an exaggerated twirl, his own cape lifting to reveal the clothes beneath, a newly purchased traveling outfit that seemed to hug him a bit snuggly. “I remember climbing on one of the large marble pillars that lined the hall and looking across the ocean of violets and it reminded me of crocuses in the winter when everything else is grey or yellowing.”

They were silent for a moment, unaware that they had stopped walking and now stood in the middle of the pathway; Virgil peering up at the prince in awe, Roman returning his gaze, the faux purple creature dangling from the string still clutched in his hands. 

“I don’t think they really compare to yours though,” Roman offered after a long moment, the words coming out far more softly than he had intended them to. 

“My what?” the witch responded, brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Your shade of purple,” Roman replied simply. 

“Oh,” was all Virgil could manage, his flush deepening against his cheeks at the compliment. 

Suddenly, Roman gave a small grunt as he was shoved out of the way of a heavyset man pushing a large cart and straight into the witch making them both stumble to one side. 

“Watch it!” the merchant snapped as he pressed on.

Roman’s arm wrapped around Virgil’s waist to keep him from falling as they tripped over one another, pinning him to his chest. Much to the prince’s surprise, the smaller man seemed soft against the hard line of his body, giving off a surprising amount of warmth as they pressed against one another. 

“Are you alright?” the taller man asked, his free hand lifting to rest at the witches elbow. 

“W-what… y-yeah, no; I mean…” Virgil mumbled, taking a moment to gather his thoughts as his hands rested against Roman’s far too toned chest.

Finally, all his common sense seemed to come rushing back to him and he gave the prince a hard shove. 

“Maybe if you paid better attention to your surroundings we wouldn’t almost get run over!” Virgil snapped without much heat, running a hand down the front of his cloak to smooth it down. “Geeze, why do you have to be so dense all the time?” he grumbled turning away to stop off in the direction of the bookshop Logan had mentioned, leaving Roman hurrying after him in confusion.

……………………………….

Logan still was not happy with the circumstances as they were. It was well past midday and neither Roman nor Virgil had returned, leaving the cat in an anxious heap. The upside to it all was that he had the opportunity to spend more time with Patton. The downside was that Patton being as powerful as he was left Logan unable to communicate with him. This meant that the endless questions that the psychic had for the dragon would have to wait until he was in his human form. 

“Choo!” Patton squeaked, covering his mouth with the inside of his elbow as another wave of heat hit the black cat curled on his lap, a crown of flowers framing his small triangle ears. There was no doubt about it now, Patton was most certainly getting sick. 

First, a vision that Virgil would kill the prince, then the two of them running off together just for spite, leaving Patton with Logan in his feline form unable to communicate with him telepathically, and now the man was growing ill? Logan wasn’t quite sure if things could get much worse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here.


	21. Bibliophile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A stand alone chapter of My Dearest Procyon
> 
> Roman and Virgil spend some time in a local bookshop, discovering a few things about each other.
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190963877862/bibliophile
> 
> Today's prompt: Quit / Quick
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety

Original story based on [ this](https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely) wonderful post by [ @underdog-arts](https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/)

Virgil breathed deeply, the earthy smell of old books filling his lungs. Tension seemed to fall from his shoulders as he released the breath. There was nothing quite as comforting as being hidden behind shelves and shelves of books. Libraries and bookshops, like this one, had always been his haven against the horrific truths of the world. He allowed his fingers to dance across the spines that lined the shelf in front of him, enjoying the rough cloth or stitched leather that covered them before finally making his selection.

The thick book slid from its spot with ease, leaving a small line in the dust where it had been sitting. It was obviously not a popular selection, not that Virgil minded. It had a generous amount of weight to it as Virgil caressed the block and gold cover reading the engraved words ‘Collection From The Crypt’. It was an apt name for a collection of poetry revolving around death, and one that Virgil had read many times. In fact, it was one of his favorites, he would be lying if he claimed not to have wished for a copy on their travels. 

His lips turned up in his excitement as he gently opened the book, flipping through the pages slowly to take in the titles of each page. 

“What are you reading?” Roman asked, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and causing Virgil to start snapping the book shut.

“What?” the witch replied a bit too hastily not to be suspicious. 

Roman moved closer, stepping around the bookshelf he had suddenly appeared from behind. “What are you reading?” he asked again, bending to try and get a glimpse of the title. 

In a quick jerk of his hands, Virgil brought the book up to his chest, hiding the cover. He was unsure as to why he felt so embarrassed about his passion for poetry but it was certainly a driving force at the moment.

“Nothing you would be interested in,” Virgil insisted, hoping beyond hope that Roman would accept that as an answer and leave it be. Naturally, he was wrong.

Despite Virgil’s valiant efforts, Roman had managed to catch sight of the gold lettering against the black leather. He couldn’t help but give a knowing smile as he met the witch’s gaze. 

“Oh?” he asked curiously, arching a brow. “Why is that?”

“I dunno,” the smaller man mumbled with a shrug, obviously unsure of himself, “Its probably not… princely enough for you.” Roman’s smile faltered slightly, though Virgil wasn’t quite sure he was meant to see it. 

Roman took a moment to gather his thoughts. Was that really how Virgil saw him? Was he nothing but some snobbish prince that was only as good as his title? Well, that stung a bit more than the prince had expected it to. 

He gave a nod, pursing his lips as he turned away, moving to the small chair at the end of the row of books and sat down. He seemed a bit out of place among the dusty tomes around him, but Virgil was just thankful he had allowed him some space as he turned back to his book.

“God lay dead in heaven;” Roman’s voice came softly, causing the witch to tense. “Angels sang the hymn of the end” his voice was gentle as he paced the words slowly, allowing them to creep towards the smaller man, causing the hair on his arms to stand on end. “Purple winds went moaning, their wings drip-dripping with blood that fell upon the earth.”

Virgil’s head lifted in surprise as he finally recognized why he knew the words. His wide gaze met the prince’s as he continued to recite the poem from one of Virgil’s favorite collections. 

Roman’s voice remained low, despite the dark tones of the words. He spoke them as if every utterance was a prayer; like an ode to a love lost. It was heartbreaking and inspiring at the same time. Virgil wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. 

“It, groaning thing, turned black and sank. Then from the far caverns of dead sins came monsters, livid with desire,” Roman continued, his hazel gaze meeting Virgil's glamoured one almost flatly. “They fought, wrangled over the world, a morsel.”

“But of all sadness this was sad-” Virgil interrupted, seizing his chance, “A woman’s arms tried to shield the head of a sleeping man from the jaws of the final beast.” 

Silence fell between them for only a moment before Virgil finally averted his gaze, face flushing with a mix of emotions. 

“Not one of my favorites, but I’m a little surprised that you know it,” he admitted softly, toying with the corner of the book still in his hands.

“Why? Because poetry isn’t ‘princely’?” Roman asked, using the man’s own words against him. 

Virgil knew he kind of deserved that. “I wouldn’t say that it’s poetry in general,” he offered, trying to placate the obvious offense Roman had taken, “it is more due to the fact that the end of the world in that poem seems a bit dark for your… well, you-ness.” 

“My ‘you-ness’?” the prince asked, earning a vague shrug from the witch. Roman gave a small sigh, shaking his head slightly before replying. “I would argue that the meaning of the poem isn’t dark.” 

“What?” the smaller man scoffered, hugging the book to his chest once more. “It’s about death and destruction devouring the entirety of the world!” 

“Is it though?” Roman asked with an arch of his brow. 

“What else could it possibly be about?!” Virgil demanded.

“It is a beautiful tale of a brave heroine!” Roman replied, fervently tossing his hands up, it seemed to be a custom when the man grew excited, Virgil noticed. 

“You have got to be joking,” the darker of the two huffed in response. 

“I never joke about poetry,” the seriousness in Roman’s tone had Virgil pausing, a shiver running down his spine.

“Alright, Your Royal Pain, how so?” He had to admit, he  _ was _ curious as to where Roman was going with this. It wasn’t often he had a chance to discuss his interests outside of Logan, and even then the fellow witch was a bit dry. 

“Well, as you pointed out the other day, even though we live in the same society, I experience a world that is vastly different from your own,” Roman pointed out.

“Yeah. So?” 

“So,” the prince sighed, causing the too tight shirt that covered his chest to squeeze him just a bit more, drawing the witch’s gaze. Virgil really needed to quit staring. He forced his mismatched eyes up, trying his best to focus on what Roman was  _ actually _ saying rather than the way he was dressed.

“What if ‘the world’ that the poem speaks of isn’t the land around us at all? Perhaps it is the woman’s own experience within the world,just as you and I live in two different worlds,” he explained, waving a hand between himself and the smaller man standing before him to reinforce his point. “We see how she has lost her faith in God. The Angels weep for her as the darkness of the world she lives in claws at her very being.” 

Virgil stared at the other man, his heart beginning to beat a bit fast as Roman continued. He wasn’t quite sure how the prince did not see his explanation as ‘dark’, but he was far too interested in discovering where he was being led to bother asking. 

“However, despite the dark and twisted world she sees, despite the horrific evil that surrounds her, wanting to rip her apart, she does not think of herself,” Roman sighed, a soft almost awed smile playing on his lips. “No, her thoughts are with the man that is with her. She thinks not of herself as she uses her own body to shield his. She thinks not of herself as she feeds herself to the beast in the hopes of delaying the man’s suffering. In the end, she knows the creatures will reach him. She knows he will live the same fate as she…” his voice cracked slightly, pulling Virgil from the spell he had seemed to be under. 

As the witch focused on the man before him, he noticed the slight gleam in Roman’s eyes. He appeared to be on the verge of tears as he continued his tale, although Virgil was unsure if it was from being moved by the poem or his own recent trauma. 

“Still, she is willing to give everything to provide him with just a brief moment of security. A moment in which he may be able to feel relief from the horrors, a moment where there may live just a little bit of joy in his dark existence. Because in the end, she is not willing to live in a world where he has no joy.”

Silence fell between the two men as Virgil couldn’t help but stare down at the prince, awestruck and a bit concerned. The tears had broken free of the green-brown gaze and began to streak across Roman’s cheeks quietly. A lump formed in Virgil’s throat at the sight, fighting back his own wave of emotion. 

Roman always seemed playful and teasing when the two of them were together, it was difficult to remember everything he had gone through during the last few days. Virgil couldn’t imagine the pain he must be feeling and yet, somehow he managed to hide it from the rest of them. No doubt, the dark poem was a vivid reminder of all that he had lost.

“Hey… Listen,” Virgil managed after a long moment, the word coming as a whisper. Despite its barely audible utterance, the sound seemed to pull Roman from his thoughts. The glaze that seemed to have covered his hazel eyes cleared slowly as he blinked slowly. He glanced up at Virgil before ducking his head to quickly wipe away the tears, obviously ashamed of them. 

“I’m sorry about your home.” Damn! Virgil was pretty sure that was too blunt. He wasn’t that good at the whole comfort thing. “I’m sure when you finally get back you’ll be able to rebuild. I know it won’t be the same, but at least it's something, right?” Virgil offered. 

Roman gave a small snort, still trying to rub the redness from his face. “You’re really bad at this,” he teased lightly, shooting a sly grin up towards the smaller man, though the amusement didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

Virgil knew what the prince was doing. He deflected far too often not to be aware when someone else did the same. Still, he could appreciate Roman’s efforts to make him feel a bit more comfortable in the situation, despite that he felt bad for not knowing what to say. 

“Thanks, but…” Roman took a shaky breath before pushing to his feet. “I don’t even know  _ how _ I’m going to get back, much less what I will do when I get there. Honestly, it’s one of the reasons I’m still hanging around you losers,” he teased lightly, shooting another one of those award-winning grins. 

“Only one?” Virgil shot back, arching a brow as he offered his own amused grin. 

The silence that fell between them this time was nowhere near as melancholy. Instead, the two stood facing one another, only a few feet apart, Virgil’s head tilted up slightly to compensate for Roman’s slight height advantage, the scent of old books working its own form of magic around them. 

Despite his inner turmoil, Roman couldn’t help but feel a warmth curling in the pit of his stomach as he met the other man’s gaze. Virgil had a way of making him feel more at ease than anyone the prince had ever met. It was infuriating and interesting, reassuring and stressful; he wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to get anything productive done when he felt like this all the time. 

Virgil was the first to break eye contact, as usual, clearing his throat as he suddenly found the floor to be the most interesting thing on the planet. 

Roman couldn’t help but give a huff of amusement at the response before collecting his cloak from where he had draped it on the counter when they had first walked in. Virgil had the books he had come there for, which meant they should probably be getting on their way. 

“You never actually told me where  _ are _ we headed anyways?”

To be continued...


	22. My Dearest Procyon CH 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman learns about Virgil's past...
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/190993493107/nightmares
> 
> Today's prompt: Half / Heart
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety and Logicality
> 
> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

“What do you mean you don’t know?!” Roman cried as the door to the bookshop closed behind them.

“It’s complicated, alright!” Virgil huffed, scanning the street around them to make sure no one was paying too much attention. He hurriedly took the prince by the arm and urged him away from the store’s door step. 

“Complicated? Complicated?! How complicated can it be?! You either know where you are going or you don’t!” Roman argued, allowing himself to be dragged onward. “I have been following you two blindly for days! I have been stabbed, dragged through the mud, tied up, gagged-”

“You weren’t gagged,” Virgil protested with a roll of his eyes.

“Almost had to face a dragon-”

“Wasn’t a dragon.”

“Forced to sleep on the cold hard ground and attacked by vicious badger!” Roman cried dramatically.

“I’m not a badger!” Virgil snapped.

“Whatever!” Roman scoffed in return. Despite his obviously overly dramatic behavior, the prince did look genuinely upset by the realization that neither Logan nor Virgil knew where they were headed. 

“Listen,” the dark haired man huffed, “I’m sorry, but it's not like we just randomly picked a direction and started walking,” Virgil huffed as they continued on. “There were a lot of factors that went into the decision.” His stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he hadn’t really eaten. “Why don’t we find some food and a quiet place for me to explain?”

Roman hesitated, eyeing the witch suspiciously before finally giving in with a nod. He was starving anyways, despite his big breakfast. “What did you have in mind?”

“I bet there’s a place that sells mincemeat around here somewhere,” Virgil offered, glancing up to take in the shops.

…………………………………….

Roman shifted against the cool broken stone wall behind him, golden curls still visible from the other side. Vigil sank down next to him, dark gaze staring across the small field before him as he bit into his small pie and chewed. It was obvious that the witch had a lot on his mind as he ate. 

Roman devoured his lunch quickly, taking it down in almost one bite, and now sat waiting for an explanation. 

“Logan told you about our past, right?” Virgil asked after a long pause, gaze shifting down to the pastry in his hands. 

“He explained how you two ended up in the situation you’re in.” Roman nodded, his expression softening at the reminder of the witches’ pain. Virgil nodded back, pausing to consider where to start. 

“You know why we’re traveling?” he began, obviously waiting for the prince to fill in the blank.

“Something about a new source of magic? I don’t really understand it all, but I know that you need it to survive.”

“Yeah,” the dark haired individual acknowledged, “Logan is kind of a seer. He saw that if we traveled in this direction, we’d find a source that we could bond with, a source powerful enough to sustain both of us.”

Roman listened carefully, finding the words far more interesting coming from the smaller man than they had seemed when Logan had explained it to him. 

“So far, we’ve only found you and Patton,” the witch grumbled in slight annoyance, “Which means we need to keep going. If we can’t find this? source, we’ll never be able to remain human or return home to face that bastard!” Virgil flushed, realizing that he had hissed the word with more malice than he had intended. 

“You mean this Noname, guy?” Roman asked curiously. “He sounds pretty awful.”

“You have no idea,” Virgil explained, averting his gaze, tensing at the reminder. 

“Like all witches, he has his own special talent. He can alter people's perceptions, make them do whatever he wants them to while they still believe they have free will, or are doing something good.” 

“That sounds awful,” the prince breathed softly. 

“It is. It’s like a dream where you feel tension and know what you’re doing is wrong but -” Virgil pulled his knees up against his chest, wrapping his arms around them as he rested a cheek on his knees, facing away from the prince. “You still do it. Then when you wake up, you remember exactly what you did.” 

Roman frowned as he studied the grass in front of him. He had so many questions, but it was obviously a touchy subject. Virgil and Logan both had been through a lot, he certainly didn’t want to make it all worse. 

“Wait,” he mumbled softly, “Logan said that he defied this guy, if Lord Butthead can force people to do what he wants, then how did Logan deny him?”

Virgil shifted, glancing up at the prince a moment before he answered. The sun seemed to shine down on Roman’s lightly colored curls, causing them to glow almost like a halo around his head. He truly was beautiful. 

“Logan’s different,” Virgil explained, “As a seer, Logan can see the truth; the future truth and the present truth. So Lord Noname’s ability wasn’t as strong on him as it was on the rest of us. It worked at first, sure,” he shrugged, “but Logan eventually saw through it and started rebelling.”

“Which is how he ended up locked up,” Roman supplied. 

“Yeah. That's when I met him.”

“But… what were _you_ doing down there?” the prince pressed curiously. 

The tension Virgil displayed suddenly spiked as he buried his face in his arms. It was not a subject he wanted to talk about. Still, he felt as if Roman deserved the truth. The man would no doubt be disgusted by him afterward. They always were. If that was the case, then at least the prince would leave him be. Perhaps then he could find his own way back to his kingdom? 

“Logan told you my talent was in physical manipulation, but that’s only half true,” Virgil began to explain, words coming out a bit timidly. “I mostly deal with dreams.” 

“What do you mean?”

“I can look in someone’s dreams and pull whatever I want into the real world. They don’t last long, but they have physical forms,” Virgil continued, shoulders raising with every word. 

“So, when he said manipulation…” Roman began putting the pieces together. 

“He meant torture.” The words were almost a whisper as Virgil’s shame crept into his voice causing it to crack. 

Roman began to shake, tears welling up in his hazel eyes. Virgil had tortured Logan… had tortured others. He had been able to pull the things these individuals were most afraid of straight out of their worst nightmares and use them to cause unknown pain. It was a horrifying thought. The Virgil he knew was so kindhearted, though a bit rough around the edges. Even now he seemed to be disgusted with himself because of what he had done. Forcing someone as sweet as the man before him to do something so horrific was vulgar and twisted! The thought infuriated the prince, so much so that his fingers curled into the fabric of his cloak to keep himself from hitting something.

“Y-you…” the prince gave a stuttering breath as Virgil seemed to shy away from him, still unable to bring himself to glance at the prince. “You were forced to do all that, and you still helped Logan escape?” The words caused Virgil to pause. “You are… You are the most incredible person I think I have ever met,” Roman admitted, a breathless chuckle escaping him as the witch’s head shot up in surprise. 

Virgil peered at him, eyes wide in shock. How could someone like him see anything but a monster? How could he see anything other than what Virgil truly was, an abomination? Virgil was one of the very few witches that actually deserved to be burned at the stake and yet… here Roman was staring at him in awe. 

“W-what?” Virgil breathed in surprise, “You can’t be serious! Are you some kind of idiot?!” the witch snapped, his own tears threatening to fall. 

“Virgil,” Roman sighed, reaching out to take one of his hands. “You may have done horrible things, but that does not make you a horrible person. You fought back! You saved Logan! You saved _ME_! You are a true hero! I have spent my entire life being taught that as a ruler I will be required to morally questionable things for the ‘good of my country’ but you… You rebelled in a way I never even thought to do! You are an inspiration! You are the bravest man in existence!” 

“Did you hit your head, Princey?” Virgil scoffed, yanking his hand away and pulling up his hood to hide the streaks of water flowing down his cheeks. “I’m a heartless nobody, and I don’t deserve your pity.”

“HA!” Roman scoffed, “Lies. I know you’re not heartless. You have to have at least half a heart to put up with me,” he boomed, bending low to peer under Virgil’s hood with a large grin.

The words earned a small half smile despite Virgil’s attempt to suppress it. The prince was far too good-natured to bother with someone like Virgil. Still, the witch was thankful for him. He gave the man a small playful shove, the motion earning a gasp as Roman dramatically fell over claiming to be wounded. 

“Stop being an idiot,” the witch laughed, swiping his hand across his damp cheeks to rid himself of his tears. 

To be continued…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here.


	23. One Last Leap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of The Cheshire Cat Ballet Au from Day 5
> 
> The boys face an audition!
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original Post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/610904098900000768/one-last-leap
> 
> Reference: Reference: https://youtu.be/n7AaZhEOJSY?t=93
> 
> Today's prompt: Jealous / Jump
> 
> Ship: Logince

Roman closed the curtain quickly, turning back towards his partner. “Logan, this is fantastic! Everything is all set! We’re going to crush it!”

“Roman, I don’t think that ‘crushing’ something is wise,” Logan replied, obviously unsure. He peered down at himself as he continued to stretch. It was normal for the man to stretch before his performances, but he had been at it for almost an hour now. It was clear that he was nervous. 

“It’s a figure of speech, Lo,” Roman huffed, “Would you stop. You’re going to do fine. Look, I just saw the competition out there and let me tell you, this is going to be a breeze.”

Logan sighed softly as he came back to resting before peering up at his much larger partner. 

“Roman, I have been thinking-”

“Uh oh,” the more experienced dancer teased sarcastically.

“Perhaps, it would be wise if we didn’t audition,” Logan finished, not even bothering to hesitate at the man’s jest.

“What?!” Roman breathed, shocked to his core. Out of all the things he could have predicted the man would say, that was not one. He couldn’t let this happen. He had to do something. “Is it the nerves? They’ll pass, Logan. I promise.”

“It’s not the nerves, Roman,” Logan reassured, gazing up at him. He  _ was _ nervous, but it was nothing he was going to allow to control him. 

“Then what is it? Is it me?!”

“Well, to be honest, it is mostly you, yes,” Logan admitted making the other man pause. 

“What?!” Roman sounded shattered as he lifted a hand to rest at his collar, tugging gently. It was a nervous habit and probably why most of his leotards had a ruined neckline. 

“I came here because I had always wanted to learn such a beautiful and complicated sport. When I arrived, I was laughed at and shunned,” Logan began to explain. 

“But it's not like that now-”

“Please Roman, allow me to finish.”

“Right, sorry,” the larger man whispered, gaze falling as he fought back tears. Why did this feel like he was being dumped? They weren’t even together!

“Thank you. Everyone laughed at me and I grew angry. I began to study everything I could about the physics of the most complicated jumps. I spent every free moment I had practicing or studying,” the thin man explained, voice shaking. “I wanted them to regret every second that they had spent laughing. I wanted to make them jealous beyond comparison. The issue was, I had no partner and everyone in the classes refused to assist. I was alone, filled with hatred and frustration. I didn’t stop though. I never would.”

“Logan…” Roman sighed, taking a step to reach out to him. Logan lifted a hand, pulling his partner to an immediate stop with just a look. 

“I have had the misfortune to visit the hospital often enough that the nurses know my name. I endangered myself because I had to be better. Then, when finally I returned from one of my longer stays, you were there. You were the odd man out and forced to partner with me-”

“Logan, if this is about what I said when we first met I was wrong, I didn’t mean-” Roman rushed, earning another silencing look. 

“I can never tell you how grateful I am that you chose this school. Having you as a partner has been one the best things that has ever happened to me. Which is why I cannot go on with this audition.”

“I still don’t understand,” the larger dancer pleaded desperately.

“You are extremely talented, Roman. You took to this art like a figurative fish to water. I have had to struggle every step of the way and I did it for the wrong reasons. I don’t need to make anyone jealous anymore. I don’t want that. I am content with who I am, thanks to you. You have been a true friend. That is why I do not wish to hold you back any longer. You have the ability to far surpass any of us; and while you have to wait for me to catch up, I will be holding you back, and I can not stand for that.”

“Logan that’s not-”

“I am almost finished, Roman, please,” Logan huffed seeing the water well in his partner’s eyes and feeling uncomfortable with his own swirling emotions. “Even if this was not the case, I fear that continuing to be your partner while I possess such…” he fought with himself for a moment at the reminder, “Inappropriate feelings towards you would be unprofessional.”

Roman gaze shot up from where it had been studying the polished floor below, surprise painted on his features. Had Logan just admitted what he thought he had?

“Continuing a partnership under these conditions,” Logan continued, his own eyes averted in his shame, “would be unwise. Partners should refrain from such romantic feelings or pursuits to focus entirely on the work at hand. To do so otherwise would be completely illogic-mph!”

Roman’s mouth was on his in an instant, swallowing the small cry. It took a moment for Logan’s short-circuiting brain to catch up to his body, but by the time that it did, he had already melted against Roman’s chest, soaking up his warmth as he kissed him. 

“Roman! Logan!” Virgil, the stage hand, called from where his head poked through behind the curtain, causing both dancers to pull away quickly. “Save it for the bedroom, you’re up next.” 

“Right, thanks,” Roman breathed with a small chuckle before glancing at Logan who was prodding at his lips curiously. It was as if the poor guy had never been kissed before, not that Roman would be surprised. 

“Logan…” he sighed softly, turning back to the smaller dancer. “It’s my turn to talk,” Logan didn’t protest. “First off, you’re an idiot.”

“What?! How dare-”

“Secondly,” Roman cut him off, “You need to stop overthinking everything. Romance can help in a performance. A relationship is built on trust, just as a partnership is. Not to mention the more physically comfortable we are with each other, the more it will show in our routines. So your logic is illogical.”

“Factually, logic can never be illogical if it is truly log-”

“Logan. Shut up,” Roman laughed as he took the smaller man’s hand in his. “We’re going out there and we are going to do great. You are not going to ruin your chances because you are overthinking this. Thirdly, I don’t want a partner that will keep up. I want a partner that will work just as hard if not harder than I do. You are the perfect partner for me, Logan. I don’t want anyone else. Okay?” he paused for the other man to answer.

“I don’t believe-”

“Just say okay, Logan,” Roman urged, causing the other to soften at the teasing.

“Okay,” Logan smiled softly with a nod. “We’re… going to crush?” 

“Close enough,” Roman laughed, pulling him into a tight hug.

La Fin.


	24. My Dearest Procyon CH 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys run into some problems... Well, one specific one to be exact...
> 
> TW: Blood, Violence, PTSD, Jellyfish
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/610918057309765632/the-wounded-jellyfish
> 
> Today's prompt: Umbrella / Unhappy
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety and Logicality
> 
> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

TW: Blood, violence, Jellyfish

“A half-dragon-half-witch that is also a queen?!” Roman asked excitedly as he walked beside the smaller man, his arms filled with the supplies they had purchased throughout the day. 

“I guess so,” Virgil chuckled. “I don’t know why I would though.”

“Well, why _wouldn’t_ you?” Roman scoffed.

“Fair,” the witch shrugged. Roman had been shooting Virgil suggestions of things he could possibly pull from dreams since he discovered the darker man’s ability. It seemed as if Roman was testing him, as if he didn’t truly believe in the man’s power. It was cute. 

“Oh! One of those creepy, pink things that have all those tentacles and float around in the ocean?” the prince pressed, earning another laugh from Virgil. 

“You mean a jellyfish?” the dark eyed individual clarified with a grin. He wasn’t sure if it was Roman himself that lightened his mood or the fact that he had come clean about his past. Either way, he felt lighter than he had in a long while. In fact, he was having such a good time with the prince that all thoughts of Logan’s deception had escaped him. 

“Yeah! That!” Roman grinned in return, “A jellyfish!”

“I told you, I can make any-'' Virgil's words were cut short as a thin oily man bumped into Roman, causing their supplies to scatter at their feet. “Hey!” the witch snapped as the weaselly man raised his hands in surrender. “Watch where you’re going!”

“Sorry, sorry. My sincerest apologies, sir,” the man rushed, his voice nasally and shrill. “Allow me to assist.” He bent to scoop up the books Virgil had purchased along with a few of the jars of preserves, shoving them into Roman’s hands as the prince knelt to do the same. 

“It’s alright, accidents happen,” Roman offered politely, accepting the items as he offered an uneasy smile. 

“No, no. I must make amends,” the man continued earning a suspicious glare from the witch. 

Virgil took a step back, not bothering to help the two pick up the mess they had made. No, something wasn’t right here. The space he set allowed him to keep a better eye on the slimy individual as he continued shoving items into Roman’s grasp. 

The witch’s gaze caught the slight movement of the man’s hand brushing against Roman’s pockets, no doubt checking them for valuables. Virgil frowned. Roman was completely unaware of what was happening to him even as the man found his coin purse and managed to get it loose as Roman fumbled about. The poor sod was so dense it was almost adorable. 

The oneiromancer didn’t hesitate to take a step forward, taking hold of the man’s wrist as the creep tried to stand. 

“I don’t think so,” Virgil hissed, his hackles raised in his annoyance. “I’ll have that back, thanks,” he added, holding out his free hand for the purse. 

The man’s gaze went wide with surprise as he eyed the witch, obviously trying to determine whether he would be able to take him. Roman was far too busy trying to balance all of the haphazardly placed supplies in his arms to be much of a threat. The man tugged at his arm, trying to get away, but Virgil’s hold remained firm. 

“Virgil, what-” Roman interrupted, confused by his companion’s actions and earning a quick glance from the man. 

The distraction was the perfect opportunity for the man to produce the small blade at his waist and lash out. Pain bloomed across Virgil’s chest, skin heating as it was split open. Somehow, the witch kept hold of the thief’s wrist even as he pulled back, dragging the man with him. The man used the newfound momentum to now thrust the sharp metal into Virgil’s side, finally winning his freedom as Virgil’s breath hitched in shock. 

For an instant, everything seemed to freeze. The cold iron intruding into his muscles sent a chill through his body. His knees threatened to give way, about to deposit him onto the muddy ground. He glanced at the prince, whose horror was obvious on his features as he allowed the items in his hands to drop to the ground once more. 

“Virgil!” Roman cried out, sounding as if he were far away despite the way the world seemed to stand still as Virgil began to fall.

……………………….

The cat sat in Patton’s lap, looking extremely unhappy under his crown of flowers. It was a very fitting look, considering how Logan currently was feeling. It was getting well into the late afternoon, and Virgil and Roman still weren’t back yet. Supply runs should _not_ take this long. 

Patton on the other hand seemed completely content as he worked the two needles against each other, knitting something that looked far too small to be anything but a rag. They had been like this for hours, Logan just lounging in the dragon’s lap as he worked, Patton still sneezing occasionally. He had even managed to catch one of his rags on fire by accident, giving a small cry as he desperately tried to put it out. 

Logan wasn’t sure how much more of this he could ta-

He tensed as he felt the mana flow within him drain substantially. Something was wrong. Virgil wouldn’t use that much power unless there was an emergency, and he certainly wouldn’t use it in a populated area. 

The clicking of the needles fell away as Patton froze in response as well, glancing in the direction of the surge of magical energy he suddenly felt. He wasn’t familiar with Logan or Virgil enough to recognize the feel of their magic, but as far as he knew, there were no other users in the area. 

Logan jumped down from his perch immediately, bounding for the exit. Patton wasn’t too far behind him, scooping up his pack as he yanked open the door. The two rushed down the stairs and out the front of the inn without so much as a glance backwards.

……………………………

Roman’s hands pressed against the soft fabric of cloak Patton had given him. The bright red now mixed with the darker tint of Virgil’s blood as he applied pressure to his wound. Panic welled in his throat as he struggled to keep it together. Flashes of his kingdom burning and his loved ones dying in his arms threatened to break to the forefront of his mind. 

“You’ll be fine, Virgil,” he whispered brokenly. He glanced about the street once more, desperately searching for help. The people that surrounded them simply stared, no one willing to help. “Someone get me a doctor, damnit!” he cried again, yelling at the onlookers who just whispered amongst themselves. 

A young boy suddenly rushed forward, bending low to snactch Roman’s satchel before bounding back into the crowd. The realization that the small thief had just robbed him took a moment for the prince to process before he began to cry, holding Virgil even closer to him. How could the world really be this horrible?! 

“Hey,” the witch’s weak voice came, “it’s okay.” Roman shook his head desperately, only pausing when he felt Virgil’s red stained hand against his cheek. “It’s all good, ah!” his breath hitched in pain, grimacing before continuing, “Princey. Gonna take more… more than this-”

Another set of footsteps could be heard, and when Roman glanced up, another portion of their supplies was gone.

“What are you doing?!” The tears doubling as they poured down Roman’s cheeks, dripping from his chin as he yelled at the crowd, “Can’t you see he’s in pain! He’s dying! Somebody do something!”

Virgil’s soft smile faded as he lifted his other hand, pulling Roman’s attention once more. 

“S-stop moving…” the prince whispered, his voice cracking, “You’ll make it worse.” 

Virgil, as usual, ignored the man, and twisted his hand this way and that, drawing an image in the air. The atmosphere around them began to grow heavy with something electric, sparks flying from the witch’s fingertips and showering down on them both. He brought the motions to a halt, leaning to press two fingers against Roman’s forehead and pulled back. A single glowing pink thread appeared from the spot between Roman’s eyes.

The string pulsed brightly once… twice… it jerked slightly, doubling in width before it jerked again… and again. Suddenly it split, far too many tendrils to count appearing from its middle. 

The crowd gasped in horror, murmurs of ‘witchcraft’ washing through them as they backed away.

Swirling through the air, the original light engulfed the tendrils into a ring, popping up to make a dome, creating what appeared to be a floating jellyfish bobbing above them . 

Roman stared up at the creature in awe, taking in the sight with a small shaky gasp.

“Virgil… it’s beautiful,” he whispered, smiling down at the quickly paling man.

“Only because it came from you,” the injured witch returned with his own weak smile, hissing as he shifted in Roman’s arms. 

“WITCH!” Someone cried, tossing a stone. Roman cried out as it struck him in his shoulder and he bent low to try and protect Virgil with his larger body. 

As if in retaliation, the glow of the jellyfish pulsed, the creature expanding to a massive size. The crowd was forced to stumble back as the umbrella spread across the ground, tendrils whipping out to shock anyone who drew near. Roman glanced up at the glowing pink shield that now completely enveloped them, but he made no move to stop shielding the smaller man himself. 

“Ro.. Roman…” Virgil breathed, words catching in his throat as he began to choke. “You need… need to go. They’ll be after you now. They… They think you’re... you’re like me.” 

“If I were half the man you are, I would be grateful,” the prince buried his face in the man’s chest, dampening his cloak further with tears. “I’m not leaving.” 

Virgil gave a huff, the act forcing another wave of pain to shoot through him as he coughed. 

“Logan… Logan will need you. H-He’ll die without me. You have to save him… Please…” the words slowly trailed off as Virgil’s voice grew weaker and weaker, uttering his last plea in a soft whisper. 

Then his eyes fell shut. 

“...I can’t… I can’t…” Roman cried, “I’m useless… I can’t save anyone!”, his sobs doubling as he clung to Virgil’s now limp body. He hadn’t been able to save his family or his home and he wasn’t able to save Virgil! How could he be expected to save Logan? He was a nobody that could do nothing. Perhaps it was better if he let the monsters around him think he was a witch,. Let them kill him for it. Maybe then at least he wouldn’t be in so much pain….

To be continued….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here.


	25. My Dearest Procyon CH14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Pat arrive...
> 
> TW: Blood, Violence, PTSD, Jellyfish
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/610997870776205312/the-first-winters-breeze
> 
> Today's prompt: Pack / Pathetic
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety and Logicality
> 
> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

Roman leaned against the rough bark of the tree, cradling the bundle in his arms as he dozed a bit fitfully. 

“Will he be okay?” Patton whispered softly to the witch next to him as they huddled around the fire. 

Logan glanced up at the two sleeping men, concern furrowing his brow. “Virgil or Roman?” he asked softly in return, studying the way Roman clung to the red stained cloak that Virgil’s raccoon shaped body was swaddled in. They had cleaned the blood out as best they could, but he was fairly certain it would never be quite the same. 

“Roman,” Patton clarified, pleadingly peering up at Logan. 

Logan pulled his gaze away from the two with a sigh, poking at the fire absently. “I honestly don’t know, Patton. For now, all we can do is hope that Virgil will awaken. If he doesn’t… I fear Roman won’t recover.”

“Neither will you,” Patton murmured softly, voice cracking as he turned towards the fire as well. 

Logan didn’t reply, though he knew the dragon was right. If Virgil perished, then so would he. However, Logan was more worried for Roman’s sake than his own. The prince had lost so much, and he and Virgil had grown so drastically attached to one another in such a short time period. Logan couldn’t shake the image of the man trying to protect his small friend when Logan and Patton first approached them in the village.

………………………………

A roar exploded in the distance, causing Roman to finally pull his tear-swollen face from Virgil’s chest as he glanced up at the source. Fire erupted, sending the village people into a frenzy as they yelled and scrambled to take cover. Roman tensed, fear mixing with his own despair as a giant monster crashed through the street, crashing into the surrounding buildings as it stormed towards the prince still holding his friend. 

Its scaly body swished back and forth as it drew closer to Roman. Two massive limbs protruded from its shoulders, helping it pull itself forward a bit more quickly as it rushed at the prince. Its elongated snout billowed black smoke into the air, spreading smoothly against its arching brows before flaring into a spiked cowl.

It only took a moment for Roman to gather himself enough to stand. What was a dragon doing in the middle of the village?! Was it here for Virgil?! He wasn’t going to let that happen! The prince briefly took stock of his surroundings before scooping up a number of stones. There was no way he would be able to slay the beast, but perhaps if he could draw it away-

The ground shook with every stomp the fire breathing lizard took towards him, sending mud flying in all directions. The prince rushed forwards, just shy of the protective pink barrier the jellyfish still provided, placing himself between the monster and Virgil. 

The red reptilian creature pulled to a halt just shy of the tendrils still snapping out at anything that drew close. Roman took hold of a stone lifting it high into the air, preparing to make his assault against the angry looking dragon that was snarling at the few villagers who ventured near.

“Get back you foul fiend!” Roman cried, throwing the rock fruitlessly. “You have no place here! I will not allow you to harm him further!” The pebble bounced against the shining scales before falling useless towards the ground. Still, the prince readied another bolt. If this should be the end of him, at least he was finally making himself worth a damn. 

“Roman! Wait!” Logan’s voice cried just as the dragon’s sharp blue gaze landed on the prince, its snarl easing. 

The witch’s voice didn’t register as Roman threw another stone. His aim was a bit off as the object smacked against the breastplate of the beast. A shiver made its way across the beast's body at the impact, the tinkling sound of scales shifting, filling the air as the deep crimson red of its torso faded into a crystalline blue. 

Roman hesitated. Was that an indication of the creature’s wound? Had he actually harmed it?

“Roman, cease this foolishness!” Logan cried once more, sliding down from the dragon’s neck. The witch, dressed only in a pair of trousers, his usual cloak forgotten as he rushed forward, bare feet already filthy with mud.

The jellyfish lashed out at the new threat, causing Logan to stumble backwards out of the whipping tendrils’ way with a small grunt. The witch’s feet slid slightly against the muck of the street. His gaze shifted to the lifeless form behind the prince, taking in the small patches of fur that poked out of the red cloak that now dwarfed the raccoon. No… not lifeless. If Virgil was dead then Logan would be too. 

“Roman!” Logan snapped again, pinning the prince with a measured look. “Roman, I need you to listen to me,” he urged, lifting his hands as if trying to calm a spooked animal. 

The prince, to his credit, gave a passing glance at the witch before focusing back at the massive threat before him, raising another stone to throw at it. He only had a few left. He would have to make each one count. 

“Don’t you dare throw that!” Logan snapped at him, raising his voice for the first time since Roman had known him. It was enough to make the prince hesitate, giving the witch another glance, this time uncertain. “He is a friend, Roman,” Logan reassured motioning for Roman to lower his hands. “He won’t hurt you or Virgil. But I need to get to Virgil,” he spoke in an even calming voice. He tried to move forward, only to jump back in order to avoid another tendril. 

“Damn it, Roman! If I don’t get to Virgil soon he  _ will _ die!” Logan yelled at the prince in a panic. 

The words, despite their harshness, or perhaps because of it, finally struck home and Roman lowered his last ‘weapon’, dropping the stone onto the muddy ground. 

“Discorporate your nightmare!” Logan demanded. 

“What?” the prince’s brows furrowed. 

“The Scyphozoa! The Jellyfish!" Logan clarified, "Release it! It is not one of Virgil’s or it would have disappeared by now which means you are the one keeping it here!”

“I… I don’t know how!” Roman cried desperately, eyes darting around the pink glow that engulfed him. 

“We don’t have time for this!” Logan growled. Using more of their diminishing magic was not wise if he were to save his partner, but the witch didn’t see another way out. He lifted his hands to his mouth, cupping them to catch the words he whispered into them. He inhaled deeply before blowing them out, sparks flying out the back of his hands and drifting down to settle on the jellyfish’s dome. The creature thrashed against the spell for only a moment before it burst into a shower of sparks identical to the ones Logan had produced. 

Logan didn’t waste a moment, rushing forward before the sparks even had time to settle. He took stock of the stream of mana the witches shared. It was barely a trickle now. At this rate, he wouldn’t have enough to heal Virgil, not with his glamour in place. 

He dropped to his knees as he drew close enough to the injured raccoon, not even registering the prince as he walked backwards. Roman's eyes remained glued to the dragon, ready to battle at a moment’s notice. 

Logan’s gaze shifted desperately around them searching for anything that he could use to destroy the sigil on his arm. 

Fingers fumbling, he managed to take hold of the discarded blade that Roman had removed from the witch’s stomach, the weapon caked with blood and muck. It certainly wasn’t the most sanitary option, but it would have to do. He lifted it to his left forearm, slicing into the skin just below the crook of his elbow.

“Logan! What are you-” Roman began to protest.

“Quiet!” Logan snapped, in no mood to bother with explanations at the moment. He dropped the knife and whispered another incantation. The now broken sigil, hidden beneath his skin began to glow softly. It burned his flesh and caused him to shiver at the pain. The witch ignored Roman’s shocked gasp as the emblem cooled and he turned his attention back to the dying creature before him. 

Roman covered his mouth, eyes wide with horror as the smooth rolling muscles of Logan’s back began to shift and slide, like snakes coiling around one another, until all that was left was the deformity beneath it. 

Roman took in the horrific sight before him, unsure which parts were muscle and which parts were skin. Logan’s back was an amalgamation of burns, gashes, and torn skin that ran from his shoulder blades down to his waist. The wounds looked fresh, the blisters and welts bubbling up against the exposed air. Roman had never seen anything like it. He averted his gaze, nausea threatening to empty his stomach.

Logan paid him no mind as he pulled back the stained cloak. His hands moved to dig into the wound at Virgil’s side, coating his digits in the raccoon’s blood as he began to murmur to himself. The air filled with the same electricity Roman was beginning to associate with magic as he gave one last glance towards the dr-

Patton straightened from where he knelt, occupying a small area of where the dragon had previously been. He dusted off his pants absently, the small outline of scales still fading into his skin from his transformation. The small man didn’t notice the inconsequential detail as he hurried forward to see if he could help. 

Realization struck the prince, and he couldn’t help but give a small stumble backwards at the shock of it all.  _ Patton _ was a dragon?! Little, soft and far too sweet Patton was a fire breathing monster who could kill them all with the bat of an eye… and Roman… Roman attacked him!

Roman had attacked Patton! Another layer of horror washed through the prince as he fell to his knees. He had attacked his friend, gotten Virgil stabbed, and could do nothing about any of it. He really was useless; unable to protect himself or his loved ones.. 

“Roman, are you okay?” Patton asked softly as he reached out to the prince. 

Roman flinched at the offered hand, an action he immediately regretted. Pain briefly crossed the smaller man’s features before he managed to hide his reaction. Shame filled the prince at the sight All he had ever wanted to do was be a hero to someone and he couldn’t even manage that. He was pathetic! 

The prince buried his face in his hands, the force of his sobs shaking his entire body. He was as bad as the people he had sworn to protect his citizens against. The only reconciliation was that most of them weren’t alive to see just how horrible he was as a person, as an heir, and as a friend. 

It wasn’t clear how much time had passed before Logan spoke, far closer to him than he had expected. “Roman, we need to move. We can’t stay here any longer,” the witch pointed out. He rested a hand on the man’s shoulder causing the prince to jerk slightly.

Roman wasn’t quite sure when it had happened, but eventually everything began to fade. His shock, disgust, fear, hatred, pain, all of it vanished, leaving him uncontrollably numb as he pushed to his feet with a silent nod. He moved to collect the discarded cloak before pausing to offer it out to Patton.

“I… I’m afraid it’s ruined. I’m sorry,” he mumbled as the smaller man gingerly reached out to take the red cloth, making a pointed effort not to allow their hands to brush against one another.

“It’s alright, kiddo,” Patton reassured with a soft smile he hoped was believable enough. “Why don’t we see if we can clean it after we get out of here?” Concern was obvious on his soft features as the dragon watched Roman give a somber nod and turn away, already heading for the edge of town.

Patton had seen many things in his lifetime, some that were strange and beautiful, some curious and bleak. He had seen the weight of society break the weak and the strong alike. It never affected him, he was immune, powerful beyond mortal measure. It was a common occurrence in such a horrible world and yet, seeing it as he did now in Roman’s eyes, his heart quietly shattered. 

It was a silent, cold feeling, so different from the continuous flame that burned within him. It spread through his veins like the first winter’s breeze in autumn, signaling an inevitable change that awaited just beyond the horizon. 

As their small party moved forward, Patton knew the events of the day were nothing compared to what was to come.

To be continued. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here.


	26. How To Hold Your Dragon (My Dearest Procyon CH15)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan and Patton find some alone times as the boys sleep...
> 
> For February Prompts on Tumblr: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original Post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/611087915290886144/how-to-hold-your-dragon
> 
> Prompt 1: Crest / Collect
> 
> Pairing: Prinxiety and Logicality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here.

Roman shifted in his sleep, curling protectively closer around the swaddled bundle in his arms. He had moved from the spot against the tree, where he had been dozing at some point during the night, careful not to jostle Virgil too much.

Patton chewed his bottom lip absently as he stared at the two, concern furrowing his brow. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had messed this whole thing up with his overprotective nature. He shouldn’t have come on so strong when he and Logan had rushed to the men’s aid. He was just so worried at the time. 

Roman gave a small shiver, tightening his hold around the raccoon, and drawing it closer against his chest for warmth. Patton gave a squeak at the sight. It was just so adorable! He shifted to dig into the pack next to him, producing a blanket before pushing to his feet. 

It was obvious that the dragon meant to cover the two, protecting them from the cool night air but he hesitated. The memory of Roman recoiling from his touch flashed across the forefront of his mind, causing him pause. Did Roman recoil out of fear? Was it just the stress of the moment? Or perhaps, it was disgust. From what Logan had told the smaller man, Roman had the grand notion that dragons were barbaric monsters meant to be slain by knights and heroes. It was no wonder he drew back at Patton’s touch. 

“Um… Logan?” the man’s small voice came as he clutched the blanket to his chest, beginning to shake slightly as he glanced down at the witch who was currently taking stock of their provisions. 

“Yes, Patton?” Logan replied, too distracted to glance up at the moment. 

Patton hesitated, feeling silly about his next request. “Roman looks cold,” he commented. 

Logan took a moment to set aside the rations he had been counting before glancing over at the prince briefly. He took in the sight of Patton hovering by the fire, blanket clutched against his chest. For a moment, the image of a small child clinging to a favored stuffed animal for courage came to mind, despite how ridiculous the notion was when compared to the god-like power the man before him possessed. Still, the look on the dragon’s face was disconcerting. 

“Perhaps you should offer him the blanket?” Logan offered in confusion. Patton nodded, gaze still on the sleeping prince a few feet away. He didn’t move. 

“Patton?” Logan asked softly, studying the way he toyed nervously with the corner of the fabric and how his bottom lip was slightly swollen from the worry of his teeth. “Is everything alright?”

“I just…” the dragon began but paused, unsure of what to say. It was foolish, he knew, but he was scared. What if Roman never warmed up to him again? What if Patton never got to be apart of that bright smile that he always flashed when Patton made a horrible joke? What if he never got to feel one of the man’s overly flamboyant embraces? Roman gave the best hugs! “I just don’t think it would be a good idea if I did it,” he admitted finally turning his attention to the tall witch. 

Logan’s confusion only grew at the admission, trying to piece together what could possibly make providing a blanket to someone in need of one a bad idea. Perhaps it was one of those odd social etiquette rulings that he never quite understood. Typically, right about now, Virgil would be chiming in with a sarcastic comment or sassy remark to provide him with some context on the matter. However, given his companion’s state of unconsciousness, it appeared he was on his own for now. 

“Isn’t that why you retrieved the bedding to begin with?” Logan asked curiously. The question had Patton’s brows furrowing further, making it appear as if he were about to cry. “Or perhaps the blanket is not the problem!” Logan rushed. He did not handle others crying well. Comfort was most certainly not a strong suit of his.

“C-could…” Patton stuttered, voice cracking softly as he hugged the folded material against his chest. “Could you maybe…” he continued, giving the witch a pleading look as he trailed off. 

“Could I take the blanket to him?” Logan clarified, earning another small dip of Patton’s head in affirmation. “Certainly.”

Tension drained from Patton’s shoulders as Logan moved to stand. 

The witch offered an outstretched hand to collect the blanket. Patton paused, unsure for only a brief moment before handing it over, wrapping his now empty hands around himself for warmth. 

Logan offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile before turning towards the sleeping prince. Patton’s gaze followed the shirtless pagan as he turned his back to the dragon. The wounds were still visible in the moon’s pale light, making discolored patches appeared darker than they had in daylight. The sight was just as disturbing as when Patton had spotted it through the witch’s glamour when they had first met.

Logan unfurled the blanket in one efficient movement before draping it over Roman’s sleeping form, making sure to cover Virgil as well. He knelt to check up on the fur covered beast wrapped in Roman’s cloak. 

Logan hid his pain well, but Patton could see through the composed exterior. Each of Logan’s movements were no doubt agonizing. The fact that he managed to hide it so well was impressive. For a human, death would probably be preferable to the torture of a simple breath. So, why then was Logan so determined to survive? What drove him? That was the whole point of the venture wasn’t it; to discover a way for him and Virgil to live without the tie to their master? 

Was it revenge? No, Logan didn’t seem the type to be driven by such a dark emotion. Perhaps it was out of spite? No, again that wasn’t very fitting of the man. He certainly was an enigma. There wasn’t much that Patton came across anymore that caused him such confusion. Logan, however, was a puzzle he was looking forward to solving. 

The witch straightened once more, the moonlight brushing against the crest of his dark hair, catching on his mismatched eyes. He was very attractive to be sure. It had been quite a long time since Patton had seen anything that could compare. The fact that anyone would wound such a beautiful being in such a way was an atrocity. 

“Are you alright, Patton?” Logan asked softly, stopping just short of the smaller individual. 

“Hm?” Patton hummed, glancing up from where he had begun to stare off, losing himself in his thoughts. “Oh. Yes! I’m fine! I’m great!” the dragon rushed, perhaps a bit too cheerily. 

Logan’s lips pursed into a thin frown at the answer, pausing to consider his response. “Patton, I understand that you are a magnificent creature that I couldn’t even begin to comprehend,” he replied softly, making the shape-shifter glance away with a flush, “but from what I have observed you have the same complex and intense emotions as we humans. Perhaps, even more so. Yet, it appears that you hide them with an overly pleasant exterior."

Patton's frown returned at the accusation, though he took no offense. The fact that Patton was so transparent was just a bit surprising to the man. 

"I cannot pretend that I have proficient knowledge or experience with emotions, but I can assume that keeping those feeling bottled up cannot be healthy. It is okay to feel things that are not pleasant. Virgil once informed me, and forgive me for the terminology, ‘Feeling like…" Logan hesitated, uncomfortable with the idea of cursing in front of the smaller man. Despite the knowledge that Patton was an ancient being capable of phenomenal cosmic magic, he always seemed so innocent to the witch. "’S-shit’," he stuttered, gauging the dragon's reaction curiously. Patton offered a small upturn of his lips in amusement, spurring Logan to continue, "Feeling like  _ shit _ can be good because it makes the good feelings better than they were before,’” that earned a small huff of laughter from the small man. “While the phrasing is a bit unpolished, I believe he had a point.”

Patton rubbed his upper arm absently as the man spoke. Logan was intelligent beyond his years, that much was clear. For someone that claimed to be ignorant of a lot of things, Logan understood Patton more than he had expected. The fact that the witch was not only brave enough to point out his disillusion, but was obviously trying to comfort him about it was endearing.

Logan took Patton’s silence as an indication of the witch’s overstep and tensed. “Of course, it is completely likely that I am mistaken. I cannot pretend to know-”

“Logan,” Patton chuckled, finally meeting his gaze with a soft smile, “It’s fine, kiddo. You’re not mistaken,” he reassured.

Logan relaxed slightly at the reassurance, offering his own smile in return. “Would you like to talk about it?” 

“I dunno,” the dragon shrugged, ducking his head in embarrassment. “It’s kind of a lot and I don’t like icky feelings. I prefer the happy fun ones that make everyone smile,” he added, forcing a grin as he bounced on his heels for emphasis, “I just… don’t know if I can provide those right now,” he sighed.

“Well,” Logan offered, “perhaps, since it is just you and me at the moment, you can allow yourself to properly manage those ‘icky’ feelings?” he offered, with an arched brow. 

Patton’s soft smile returned as he peered up at the taller man. “Yeah… I guess that wouldn’t be so bad.” 

“Good,” Logan huffed mirroring the soft expression as he lifted his arms. “Perhaps, an embrace might be preferable?” he offered, unsure if this was the appropriate course of action.

However, the suggestion had Patton instantly beaming. Logan had never offered him a hug before! In fact, He had never seen the man offer  _ anyone _ a hug before! Only Roman had ever allowed Patton to hug him!

The dragon preened, feet dancing as he bounced from one to another in his excitement, hands lifting to his mouth, digits tapping against the giant grin that split his face. A screech escaping him, high pitched enough that Logan was certain only dogs could hear. 

If that wasn’t affirmation enough, the dragon proceeded to launch himself into the witch’s embrace, arms tucked in close against his chest, far too conscious of the man’s wounds to return the embrace himself. 

Logan grunted at the impact, giving a low chuckle that rumbled through his chest as his limbs locked around the small form. Patton instantly melted, his own heat seeping into Logan’s cool skin pleasant as they stood next to the fire. Despite Patton’s immeasurable power, he somehow felt safe in the witch’s hold, as though even his own nightmares couldn’t touch him there.

Patton had been so inequivantly wrong; Logan definitely gave the best hugs (but Roman was a close second).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here.


	27. Starlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan fails to adequately express his feelings. Patton discovers them anyways. 
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/611207493361762304/starlight
> 
> Today's prompt: Karma / Kneel
> 
> Ship: Logicality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to write another chapter of My Dearest Procyon but a friend was having a rough day so I wrote here some Logicality fluff.

Logan sat at his desk, back straight with perfect posture as his pen glided across the paper before him. It was late. Far later than Logan typically allowed himself to stay up. He set a strict schedule for himself and he tended to ensure that he stuck to it. 

Still, as he glanced at the clock on the shelf above his desk, he frowned. 02:14 AM. His bed time had passed over four hours ago. He adjusted his glasses before focusing back on the written words that seemed to fail him. 

~~“Dear,~~

~~Dearest,~~

My Dearest Patton,

 ~~I have recently discovered, I have come to realize,~~ I have many things that I wish to discuss with you, but I do not know where to begin. I have never quite been very skilled at discussing things of an emotional nature. To my good fortune, you have always been there to guide me in the direction needed when the occasion arrived for such things. 

I unfortunately find myself to be inadequate in your presence. ~~I can not begin to describe to find to express~~ Despite my intellect and extensive vocabulary, words fail me. It appears that despite my many attempts to discuss the topic of my ~~experience lack of emotional response~~ physical and emotional reaction to your presence, I have failed. 

I fear I may have made things worse by attempting to gain some insight into expressing my troubles by speaking to Roman. He does seem to have an innate ability to woo our more somber friend. He claimed that I was incapable of speaking to you about these responses due to his state being ‘shook’. ~~Though, I am not quite certain what he means and why he claims ‘shaken’ is grammatically incorrect, but he made his point clear.~~

It appears that while I am in your presence, I am unable to think properly due to a number of chemical reactions. I will admit, I had pursued research on the topic for fear that whatever the cause of my lack of judgement, this perpetual state of incoherence may prove to be permanent . ~~Roman assured me that this is karma though it is still unclear as to what Hinduism has to do with any of this.~~

It would appear that when I am in a close proximity to you, my brain releases dopamine, adrenaline, serotonin, estrogen, and testosterone creating an intoxicating mixture that, in Roman’s words, causes me to ‘ghost’ anyone and everyone near me. ~~I am unsure about his choice of vernacular, but his point was clear.~~

It is apparent that I care for you a great deal more than I have ever cared for another person. You are the figurative star at the center of my solar system. You shine more brightly than the sun itself. Every time I am gifted with the sound of your laughter, my heart breaks with the overflow of emotions the sound causes.

Furthermore, to compare you to a star is admittedly unfair. Though I have a passion for astronomy, the sorrowful beauty of a star could never measure against your own. Stars are dying structures billions of years away from Earth. Most of which have already died and remain ghosts in the sky. ~~You are nothing so morbid.~~

Your light and beauty are everbright, never to be extinguished even within the test of time. Your warmth and protection, the light and beauty you bring out from within all of us, these are qualities which will never die. Therefore, you can not compare to a star when a star will inevitably fail. 

I fear that even these words prove to be insufficient withmy intention. I am no poet and I do not pretend to be such. However, I am not ashamed to present another poet’s words to assist me in my attempt at disclosure. 

The words of Geoffrey Chaucer come to mind when I think of the way you affect me. His poem, Rondel of Merciless Beauty, seems to express my feelings towards you adequately:

Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly;

Their beauty shakes me who was once serene;

Straight through my heart the wound is quick and keen. Only your word will heal the injury

To my hurt heart, while yet the wound is clean—

Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly;

Their beauty shakes me who was once serene. Upon my word, I tell you faithfully

Through life and after death you are my queen;

For with my death the whole truth shall be seen.

Your two great eyes will slay me suddenly;

Their beauty shakes me who was once serene;

Straight through my heart the wound is quick and keen…..”

Logan read the words once more, taking in the numerous lines of red ink, striking through unnecessary sentences. His frown deepened before he tore the page out with a frustrated huff. He crumpled the page violently between his hands, tossing it into the already overflowing bin next to the door. 

This was utterly hopeless! He was not some romantic protagonist in one of Roman’s poorly written romance novels! There was no reason he couldn’t just walk up to the smaller man and confess his feelings like an adult!

A knock at his door made the lanky individual start, heart pounding against his chest in surprise. He glanced at his clock once more: 02:17 AM. No one should be up at this hour. Even Virgil tended to be in bed by now. 

He pushed to his feet, pulling the end of the tie that hung loosely over his shoulders from where he had unfastened it in his frustration after his seventh draft of the letter. He deposited the wrinkled silken fabric onto his desk before moving to curiously pull open the door. 

Patton stood just outside the fairly spacious bedroom dressed comfortably in his cat onsie, a steaming mug in his tired hands. He peered up at Logan and offered a small tired smile. Logan’s heart stopped.

“Well, hiya,” Patton greeted, his usually chipper voice a bit sluggish with sleep, “I saw your light on, on my way to get a glass of water. I figured you’d probably be up with one of your late night projects so I brought you a cup of joe, Lo,” he chuckled, shooting Logan a wink. 

“I-I…” The taller man stuttered, face flushing in panic, “I.. Yes.”

The answer to a question Patton most certainly didn’t ask, had his brows furrowing. It was obvious that Logan was once again short circuiting, but Patton graciously chose not to comment on it. Instead, he offered the warm mug out to the larger man, giving him another one of those million dollar smiles Logan had just been writing about. The taller man practically swooned.

“You’ve been staying up well past your bedtime lately, kiddo,” Patton commented, glancing down at the bin next to his roommate and the crumpled papers scattered around it. “What a mess! You really have been working hard, haven’t you? I worry about you sometimes,” he continued kneeling down to pick up one of the balls of yellow stationary. “You’re such a busy bee. You really should allow yourself more rest, bee-cause sleep is important,” he laughed as he started unraveling the page, “What are you working on anyways?” 

Logan willed himself to move to no avail. He needed to get the paper away from the smaller man! He needed to do it now! Despite his attempts, Logan’s arms remained stubbornly where they were, both gripping the ceramic mug in his hands so tightly that his knuckles were pale. 

His body heated with embarrassment as his gaze became glued to Patton’s gentle features, taking in the way his forehead dimpled as he concentrated on what he was reading. 

Logan could scream if his body wasn’t betraying him in such a horribly demented way! Why was he allowing this?! This could ruin their friendship! This could be the last time he would be allowed to see Patton because he allowed his emotions to get the best of him! He needed to shut them down and shut them down now!

“Oh,” Patton breathed softly, sending a spike of terror through Logan’s heart. “Oh my.” The spike dug deeper causing the gangly geek physical pain. 

“Patton, I can explain-” Logan rushed, finally finding his voice.

“I had no idea you felt this way,” the smaller man breathed, peering up at his roommate, gaze glistening with the threat of tears. 

Logan was no longer convinced that a ‘spike’ was a good analogy. No, he was fairly certain that his heart had just been hit with an explosive ice grenade. He had made Patton cry! He would never forgive himself for this! He deserved-

“This is beautiful, Logan,” Patton added softly, lifting a hand to wipe away the tears, stopping Logan’s panic in its tracks. “I wish I had known…”

“You… You think so?” Logan asked lamely, the cup shaking slightly in his hands.

“Of course!” Patton chuckled, pressing the wrinkled paper against his chest. “Are all of them like this?” He asked, glancing down at the piles in awe.

“Well… To some degree,” the taller roommate admitted, taking a step back to glance at them as well. “Some are admittedly more composed than others.” 

“Logan…” Patton’s voice cracked around the word, the tears beginning to flow more freely now. 

Logan set the mug aside quickly, unsure of how to respond. He was not very good at comfort, that was Patton’s department. He reached out for the smaller individual, knowing Patton prefered physical contact.

“I’m so sorry, Patton. It was not my intention to upset you!” he rushed.

“I’m not upset, Logan,” Patton chuckled wetly, covering his face. “I’m just so happy. I thought I… I didn’t know you… I didn’t know you could feel that way, much less about me!” 

Logan blinked at him in surprise. Patton wasn’t upset? No, he could see the small dimples on his cheeks that usually were an indication of his large grin, even though they were currently hidden behind his hands. Patton was smiling. Relief washed through the taller man.

“Patton, may I,” Logan paused, still unsure of himself but feeling his own happiness warm him. “May I embrace- oof!” 

He barely managed to get the word out before Patton was slamming into him, arms tightly wrapping around Logan’s waist. The little man was surprisingly solid against Logan’s chest as he returned the hold. 

Patton buried his face in his roommate’s dark polo, his tears leaving small damp stains as he breathed in the earthy scent of wood and lavender that always seemed to cling to the other man. It was a comforting sensation that Patton had often found himself thinking about late into the evening when he was unable to sleep.

They remained that way for some time, hovering in Logan’s doorway silently, clinging to one another as if they letting go would cause them to drown. 

“Does this mean, if I were to venture an inquiry, to say, dinner this Friday, you would be inclined to accept?” Logan asked finally, flushing.

“Yes! Of course!” Patton replied without hesitation, pulling away just far enough to peer up at him, face beaming with happiness that caused Logan’s breath to hitch. How could one man be so breathtakingly beautiful?

Without a thought, the taller man’s hand lifted to Patton’s check, bending low to brush his lips against the small peak of the other’s nose. 

La fin…


	28. Princely Poignancy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman is having a rough time. 
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/611444790983262208/princely-poignancy
> 
> Today's prompt: Forget / Failure
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety and Logicality
> 
> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

Roman held the large bundle closer against his chest as he trailed behind the two men in front of him silently. It had been one day and eighteen hours since the creature in his arms had been injured. Of course, this was an estimation, but Roman was certain it was almost accurate. Each hour that passed without the raccoon waking was another mental tally against the clock. 

Logan continued to reassure the prince that Virgil would wake up when he was ready, but Roman could see the tension behind his gaze. The witch was just as worried as he was. The only difference was that none of this was Logan’s fault. He hadn’t been there. He hadn’t been the one that let Virgil get hurt. 

“Roman?” Patton called softly, having noticed the way the prince began to slow. “Is everything alright, kiddo? Would you like me to carry Virgil for awhile?” the smaller man offered. 

“No!” Roman rushed, pulling Virgil protectively against one side. Patton blinked in surprise, pain flashing in his eyes. It was just as it was when he had arrived to save the prince and his procyon in the middle of the village, when Roman had drawn back in shock. Roman was too ashamed to meet his gaze as they continued on. Would the prince ever stop hurting the ones he cared so deeply for? Would he ever stop being such a failure?! 

“No,” he repeated a bit softer, “thank you, Patton. I’ve got him.” The dragon wasn’t convinced as he glanced towards their other companion.

Logan had pulled to a stop as well, his usual cloak draped over his shoulders to hide the bareness beneath. At least now Roman knew why he never wore more clothes then were strictly necessary to remain decent. The sight of the witch’s wound still haunted him. 

“Patton is right to be concerned, Roman,” Logan offered. “You haven’t slept since the first night out of the village and you've refused to eat. You cannot continue this much longer.”

Logan certainly wasn’t wrong. Roman’s emotional exhaustion had gotten the better of him the first night that they had ran from the town to take shelter in the woods. He had managed a few hours of sleep, but they were fitful and uneasy. Since then, he had refused any and all food offered to him, claiming they needed to save what little supplies were left. It was a true statement, though it was not the only reason for his lack of appetite. 

However, Logan and Patton’s concerns did not end there. Since leaving, Roman had refused to let go of Virgil’s sleeping form. He would not allow either of them to carry the swaddled raccoon, or set him down even to rest. The prince constantly had his arms wrapped around the beast as if Virgil was the only thing keeping him sane at the moment. Honestly, Logan was beginning to think that might be the case. 

The cloak Virgil had been wrapped in had been switched out for a small blanket. Roman had jumped at the idea of getting rid of the soiled cloak at least. However, he still refused to loosen his grip, even when Logan had managed to reserve enough magical energy to heal the wound in Virgil’s abdomen just a little bit more. 

The process was slow, considering what little energy the witches had access to and the exhausted nature of their reserved power. Still, it seemed to be working, inch by inch. Virgil was nowhere near fully healed, but they were making progress, in spite of having to work around Roman’s grasp. 

Despite his many protests, Patton had managed to convince Logan that the best thing for both Virgil and Roman was to leave the prince to his vices. What harm could be done in allowing the man to care for his friend in his own way? Logan could not provide a counter argument and thus Roman was left to his obsessive protectiveness. 

Perhaps the most worrying affliction Roman presented was his silence. The prince, usually so showy and overdramatic now fell mute unless directly spoken to or asked a question. Patton already missed his companion's pleasant nature and bolstering laughter. Roman hadn’t even cracked a smile at one of the dragon’s horrible jokes. It was all very worrisome. 

“I’m fine,” Roman repeated for what felt like the hundredth time, in response to Logan’s words. “Let's just focus on where we are going.” 

“Roman,” Logan huffed, obviously about to start lecturing the man once more. However, the witch silenced himself as Patton’s small hand rested gently at his elbow, calming him suddenly.

“Why don’t we take a break?” Patton offered with a soft warm smile that had Logan unable to refuse, “It's already past midday and I don’t know about you kiddos, but I’m starving.” 

Logan hesitated briefly as he peered down at the ancient creature before giving a nod. He was obviously still tense about the entire situation, but Patton was much more intuned with the emotional need of others than he was. 

“Very well, I suppose this is as good a spot as any,” Logan offered, sliding his pack off the shoulder he had been carrying it under. “Roman, why don’t you and Virgil rest in the shade for a bit? Patton and I can prepare lunch.” 

Roman didn’t argue. What was the point? Besides, his legs  _ were  _ starting to get a bit tired. 

The prince moved to a large oak, whose canopy stretched across the small clearing, providing a generous amount of shade. He pressed his back against its rough bark and slid down, Virgil still tucked in the nook of his arm. For a moment he watched his two companions move about as they began to build a small fire, leaving Roman and Virgil to themselves. 

He let his head fall back against the trunk as he shifted the raccoon to rest in his lap, hands pressed gently against Virgil’s side so he could measure his breathing. Roman hated moments like these. They were so quiet and still. It left him feeling alone, tension seeping into his very fiber. 

He allowed his eyes to close for a moment, unaware of his exhaustion creeping up on him. Almost instantly, the prince was asleep. His dreams shifting into horrific illusions of blood and fire. Even in slumber, the images didn’t allow him to forget the pain of the world around him. 

To be continued. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Many of the February ficlet prompts will be apart of the My Dearest Procyon fic and will be posted there. However, for each prompt posted under that fic a notification chapter will be posted here.


	29. Keep Breathin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman dreams...
> 
> Prompt list can be found here: https://hiddendreamer67.tumblr.com/post/190422284210/open-to-anyone-and-everyone-for-inspiration-to
> 
> Original post: https://sebthesnipe.tumblr.com/post/611445418694426624/keep-breathin
> 
> Today's prompt: Little / Large
> 
> Ship: Prinxiety and Logicality
> 
> This lovely fic was inspired by this post on tumblr: https://underdog-arts.tumblr.com/post/190630800357/me-in-love-with-a-character-its-more-likely

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mentions of blood and violence

Roman’s dreams began as they usually did now. His dreams of heroics and praise were a thing of the past. The only thing left in these endless dreamscapes was pain and torment. He couldn’t help but feel he had earned this torment. He deserved this pain.

There was the constant shifting of settings and faces, loved ones, strangers, citizens and nobles. It was disorientating. Among the ruins of the burned structures and charred bodies, a man, not much younger than the prince, but far more beautiful could be seen. The glimpses of the man were no more than a silhouette against the orange and red flames, far in the distance. Roman couldn’t be sure if he was an angel, come to deliver him, or a demon, here to drag him to the deepest pits of Hell. The one thing Roman was sure of was that he was the most stunning creature he had ever seen. 

Roman watched silently, his shoulders growing heavy with the weight of his guilt as he did nothing. Another citizen collapsed next to him, chest slashed open by an unseen forsalent. Roman’s gaze followed the individual as they hit the pavement next to him, purple hood still pulled over their face. They were dead. They had to be, everyone else around him was dead. 

Roman couldn’t move, unable to look away from the body next to him. There was something so familiar about their form. Did he know them? Had they been friends? He wouldn’t know until he could see their face. He needed to see their face. 

The weight on his shoulders grew, forcing him to take a knee or be crushed by its burden. He was closer to the corpse now. He could smell the stench of burned flesh as the flames around them drew closer, licking at their body hungrily. He needed to know; needed to see their face. He had to make sure it was  _ him _ ! He wasn’t even sure who ‘him’ was, but he was important, perhaps the most important individual Roman had ever known… had he known him? Was it even a him?

The prince reached out a hand, shaking slightly with the fear that spurred him onward. What if it was him? What if he really was dead? It was all Roman’s fault! Still, he needed to know if there was no hope.

His fingers brushed against the now red fabric of the hood, fisting the cloth desperately. Terror inched further up his spine as he hesitated. He didn’t want to know. He was better off not discovering the truth. How could he help otherwise? He was doomed to be useless for the rest of his days if he didn’t know who this man was.

He ripped back the hood in one quick moment. A large monstrous beast lunged at him from beneath the cowl, its jowls foaming as it opened wide to try and devour Roman in a single bound. Its black and white fur fell from its large body in bloody clumps, sizzling from the fire around them. Roman gave a cry raising his arms to cover his face in defense as the creature attacked. 

He waited for the pain, eyes squeezed shut, body shivering in his petrified state. 

“Roman,” a soft angelic voice came. The sound was so startling in contrast to his surroundings that the prince couldn’t help but give a startled jerk in surprise. 

“Roman,” the soft voice came once more, a bit more soothing. Below him, the cowering man, curled closer around himself, too afraid to open his eyes for fear of what new horrors his dreams would provide for him. “It’s me, Roman. You can look. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” 

Virgil didn’t know what he was talking about. How could he? This was  _ Roman’s _ dream, he knew what his own mind was capable of. The horrors it could- Wait…. Virgil? The prince jerked his head up, eyes wide in surprise and desperation as they settled on the other man’s form. 

The ashen village Roman had been standing in only a moment ago was nowhere to be seen. The scent of burning flesh accompanied by the sound of tormented screams was gone. In its place spanned a large vast blanket of whiteness; a blank canvas to be painted however he saw fit. Before him, stood Virgil, his savior.

The witch towered over Roman’s cowering form, his usually oversized travel worn clothes replaced with form fitting trousers and a black and purple tunic, framed with a matching cloak. His brows were furrowed in concern, purple gaze boring into the prince as he offered a hand. 

“V-Virgil…” Roman stuttered, the name spoken in such a soft whisper it sounded as if it were a prayer. 

Virgil’s heart seemed to break at the sound, a crack no doubt splitting its beating surface. Roman scrambled towards the man, ignoring the offered help up to wrap an arm around the witch’s waist, his other hand lifting to fist into his savior’s tunic. The prince buried his face in Virgil’s stomach. 

“Virgil, I’m so sorry!” He cried, tears already beginning to soak through the fabric. Virgil’s heart shattered further. “I’m so so sorry! I should have protected you! I should have been able to save you!” 

Virgil tensed at the embrace, not sure what to do with the reaction. Slowly he lowered his hands to rest on the prince’s shoulders almost as if he were trying to comfort him. It was good to see that his mind was processing enough to know who he was and what had happened. Most people didn’t have the coherency as Roman did in his dream. 

“Roman,” Virgil sighed softly, “Roman it's alright. I’m fine,” he reassured but Roman only clung more tightly to the witch, sobbing softly. The prince didn’t seem to listen. 

Virgil gave another huff before wrestling out of Roman’s grip and dropping to his knees in front of the prince. Roman didn’t hesitate to pull him against his chest as soon as he was close enough to do so, yanking him hard enough against his chest to cause Virgil to give a pained grunt. The prince was certainly as strong as he looked. 

“Roman,” Virgil managed in a pained gasp, “Roman I can’t breathe.” 

“Oh,” the prince gasped, lightening his embrace just enough to allow the witch’s chest to expand but not nearly enough to allow him to escape. Virgil would never admit it, but he didn’t mind. Roman gave the best hugs. 

Hesitantly, the witch lifted his arms to wrap around the larger man in return, feeling the way the force of his tears was causing his entire body to shake. Virgil hadn’t realized how much he had cared. He should have known though. The prince, despite his pompous tendencies, had such a big heart. Virgil didn’t think it mattered who it was that had gotten hurt, Roman would have been upset regardless.

“I thought I had lost you,” Roman mumbled into the crook of Virgil’s neck, voice hitching. “I thought you were gone!”

“Come on, Princey, like I would let myself die by some rando on the street. Nah, it’s going to take a lot more than that to put this badger out of his memory,” he teased using, earning a snort of amusement in return. “Seriously, I’m fine.” 

Roman took a moment to gather himself before he finally pulled back, taking in Virgil’s face. He looked healthy enough, his skin no paler than usual, features worried but healthy, his eyes…

“Your eyes…” Roman breathed, dumbfounded, “Both of them…?”

“Oh…” Virgil blinked before averting his gaze in shame and embarrassment. “Yeah, I don’t have one of Logan’s when I enter dreams. They’re just mine,” he shrugged.

“They’re more beautiful than I had imagined,” Roman sighed, lifting a hand to the witch’s chin to cause him to look at him. “They suit you perfectly.” 

It was Virgil’s turn to have his breath hitch. No one had ever used those words to describe him or his eyes. The violet color was unnatural and off putting. It scared people to no end. He was a freak! That was all he would ever be. Roman was no doubt just being chivalrous. 

"You are the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on," The prince added, making Virgil question his own logic. 

"Roman, don't say anything you'll regret," Virgil warned before Roman could dig this hole any deeper. "Your dream might not be real, but I am. We’ll both remember this when we wake up."

"Good," The larger man replied without hesitation making Virgil tense. "I have been thinking about all the things I would say to you if you woke for days now. I will not waste another moment if I can avoid it."

"Roman don't. I refuse to be something you regr-"

"No," Roman interrupted flatly, hands moving to grip one of Virgil's between them. "I will regret not telling you this right here, right now. No Logan, no Patton; just you and me. Just… Just let me explain, please," Roman pleaded giving Virgil  _ the look _ . 

They hadn't known each other long but Virgil was very familiar with  _ the look _ .He had those big hazel eyes and that puckered lip. Ugh,Virgil was weak to it! He couldn’t help but give a small nod. 

"Thank you," Roman sighed in relief. "I have lost so much in the last few weeks. In fact, I've lost everything," he clarified, glancing away briefly as he tried to gather himself before continuing. "I didn't know what to do. I had so much pain and suffering. Then you just showed up out of nowhere, like an angel. You are so clever and deep and intimidating and charming and fierce," he chuckled wetly, the tears starting once more. "For the brief time that I have known you, you became the only thing in my life that made it worth living. I have nothing else. You made me want to fight. You made me want to live when nothing else could. Because if there was something as strong and beautiful as you in this world then it would be worth it."

Virgil wasn't sure how he felt about everything. He didn't like that Romam was making a confession he knew the prince would regret. He didn't like that he didn't know if Roman was trying to trick or lie to him somehow. He didn't like that he hoped he wasn't as his own face heated uncontrollably. He  _ did _ like Roman.

"You are the most incredible person I have ever met," the prince continued. "In my short time next to you, I have grown to care for you so much that if I lost you, I don't know how I could possibly manage without you and now…. Now you're…" He stuttered, hiccuping at the reminder of his failure.

"Roman, I'm going to be fine." Virgil huffed, growing annoyed at having to repeat himself along with the emotions Roman was drawing out of the witch. 

"Virgil, I don't think I can do this without you," Roman continued ignoring the man's words, lifting his hands to cup Virgil's cheeks. "When you got hurt, I couldn't… I didn't…"

"Roman," Virgil whispered, hands covering the larger man's. "I'm alright. I'm going to be alright. Logan is fixing me up. He's exhausting our magic to the point I have to stay asleep until I'm fully healed to keep the flow strong. You can't keep doing this to yourself," Virgil squeezed his hands gently offering a reassuring smile. The sight had an astonishing amount of anxiety falling from Roman's shoulders. "You need to eat and rest. Neglecting yourself isn't going to make me heal faster," he pointed out. "You have got to stop. I need you too, the you that's not completely useless."

Roman cracked the first smile he had in days, easing Virgil's concern slightly. "I can do that," the prince reassured. Virgil returned the grin meeting his soft eyes with his own shifting purples. 

"Yeah?" the witch asked.

"Yeah," Roman replied, gaze lowering slightly to take in the soft curve of Virgil's lips. He suddenly became acutely aware of just how amazing Virgil felt pressed flush against his chest. 

Virgil's anxiety skyrocketed at the look Roman was giving him. He could feel his heart pounding almost painfully against his ribs as he waited to see what the prince would-

"Roman," Logan's calm voice came, far too loud in Roman's ear as he jerked awake. "You need to eat before we move on." 

Roman blinked in surprise as he tried to adjust to the bright sunlight. He slowly took in the sight of the tall cloaked witch bending low to offer him a bowl of what he could only assume was some kind of stew.

Panic filled him briefly at the realization that he had fallen asleep. He quickly took stock, jerking upright from where he had slumped against the tree. He felt the raccoon, still swaddled in his lap, shifted from the sudden movement and he paused, taking a moment to breath and calm himself. Virgil was still there. His dream visions flooded back to him. 

Virgil was going to be fine. 

Everything was going to be fine. 

"Thanks," Roman mumbled towards the lanky witch accepting the bowl, a small smile playing on his lips. 

Logan hesitated, surprised by the ease of acceptance from the prince. He wasn't sure what had changed but the witch was more than a little relieved. 

To be continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been made into a multi chapter fic, My Dearest Procyon, that can be found here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129/chapters/54123706
> 
> Thank you so much for joining me in this project! I really enjoyed it! I will be continuing My Dearest Procyon under its own AO3 posting if you would like to continue to read it there.   
> Thank you all for the support!!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [My Dearest Procyon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22645129) by [Spootilious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spootilious/pseuds/Spootilious)




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